Never Let Me Go: A Jelsa Fanfic
by Not Your Typical Teenager
Summary: Elsa thought she was the only one of her kind, and then there he was: that strange, funny, white-haired Winter Spirit. Jack Frost had been on his own for as long as he could remember. Now that he had found Elsa, he was never going to let her go. But there was a tiny flaw in their relationship: fear. Will their love be strong enough to overcome it, or will fear consume them?
1. Prologue

**Author's note: ****Hey there, reader! Sorry if my grammar's a bit off, I haven't written in a while. Anyways, here's the prologue. Take note that my story takes place around the same time the events in the movie** **took place, with my own personal spin to it. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think about this chapter by leaving a review down below!**

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 **PROLOGUE**

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Queen Iduna stood outside on the balcony of her quarters, staring up at the starry night sky one chilly night. The Kingdom of Arendelle was fast asleep, but she could still spot a few lights from the village up on the mountainside, their feeble glow resembling a firefly's. The lake that surrounded their palace was still and calm, as if it were a gigantic mirror reflecting the heavens above. It was a beautiful sight and she sighed in contentment, her hands subconsciously rubbing her bulging belly. Two years after she and King Agnarr married, they were blessed with the child she was carrying right now—a girl, they just recently knew. She was thinking of what to name her child as she marveled at the sky, shivering slightly when the breeze kissed her skin. She wore only a long silken nightgown underneath her thick lavender robe, and was surprised that the wind was still this cold. Winter was almost over, and spring was just about to roll in.

She crossed her arms over her chest just as the wind began to pick up, ruffling her robe and causing the balcony doors behind her to creak and swing on their hinges. The temperature continued to drop, and soon Iduna started to see snow dust falling from the sky. "What on earth?" she said, for in the distance, across the roiling lake, giant clouds began to form, swirling around like a hurricane and blocking the stars. She squinted, and she could have sworn she saw blue lightning within the cloud. Iduna was both confused and bewildered—if it was a lightning storm, why was there snow?

As the storm drew near, more forks of brilliant blue light reached from the sky to the ground, mesmerizing her. The snow continued to fall and turned into a full blown blizzard, yet the Queen remained outside. But she broke out of her reverie when the door behind her opened and she heard a voice. "Iduna! There you are!" her husband, King Agnarr, yelled over the roar of the wind. "Come, get inside!"

"Agnarr, can you see this?" she cried, gesturing to the clouds and lightning before them, "What's happening?"

"Please, just get inside! It's not safe!" he yelled, furiously trying to keep the balcony door open against the wind and snow. Iduna took one last look at the storm, just as she saw an explosion of blue light from the center of the storm, blasts of light extending from the center outwards. Iduna covered her face with her arms just as the blast reached them. Extreme cold hit her body and she fell on her knees, shivering so badly that she could almost hear her bones rattling. "Iduna!" Adgarr cried, catching his wife just before she hit the ground. His wife was cold as ice, her eyes fluttered shut, her breaths quick and shallow. Her body was shaking like a leaf, so Adgarr quickly carried her inside, yelling orders for servants to come to their aid, just as the blizzard outside seemed to freeze in time, the snowfall slowing down to a mere drizzle.


	2. Chapter One: Elsa

**Author's note: You didn't think I was going to leave you hanging with just a prologue there, now did you? Leave a review below and tell me what you think!**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own anything except the story line and plot of this story.**

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 **CHAPTER ONE: Elsa  
 _The Book_**

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Eight-year-old Elsa stared gloomily through the frost covered windows. It had been a week since she had accidentally hit Anna with her powers, and her isolation from her was more than Elsa could ever bear. She hated her room; though it protected Anna from herself, she still wasn't quite used to sleeping in the dark alone. She missed the way Anna would wake her up at night so that they could play dolls under the moonlight. She missed braiding her sister's hair. She missed how Anna would tug at her blankets and whisper, "I had a nightmare" in a small, frightened voice. Elsa remembered sleeping next to her whenever she had one of those nightmares, embracing her sister as they both fell asleep.

She was glumly watching the snowflakes outside fall lazily to the ground as the seconds ticked by. Elsa's room faced the castle grounds, where the fountains in the courtyard were frozen solid enough to skate on. She sighed, remembering a promise she had made to Anna. She would do anything to play in the snow with her. Elsa had given up entertaining herself with her rag dolls an hour ago. They reminded her too much of the good times she had shared with Anna before her imprisonment. And besides, her precious toys could turn to ice at a single touch of her little pale hands; she couldn't risk destroying those little things that anchored her to the memories beyond the walls of her room.

Elsa stood up and stretched; being cooped up in a room was _boring_. Her room was the only one in the castle without a fireplace, since she felt vulnerable and suffocated around the flames. Her four-poster bed had been positioned a few steps away from the triangular window that reached the ceiling. A trunk—which kept all of Elsa's toys hidden and safe from her powers—made of dark wood large enough to sit on rested by the foot of her bed. The dark blue velvet curtains were drawn back by silver tie backs that ended in elegant tassels. Her vanity table, which she rarely used, lay bare against the wall. If she focused hard enough, she could almost see Anna sitting on the plump chair, waiting for Elsa to braid her soft strawberry blonde hair. Her heart ached, knowing that she'll never be able to braid Anna's hair again. She thought of going to the library, reading the hours away to keep her mind off things. She thought of sneaking outside the castle to the grounds below, catching snowflakes in her palms—

"Elsa?" a little voice said at the door. Elsa froze. It was Anna, as usual. It pained her to keep sending her sister away, especially since she had no one to play with. Like Elsa, Anna had to suffer complete separation from their own people, and the friends they could have made remained a dream in the depths of their minds. Quietly and cat-like, Elsa crept to the door, pressing her ear flat on the cold, polished wood. A few days earlier, Anna had asked Elsa to build a snowman with her. It broke her heart to usher her sister away. _I have to keep you out, sister,_ Elsa had wanted to say. _I have to protect you._ "Do you want to skate on the fountains?" Anna asked, her little, high-pitched voice full of hope. "I heard Emily say that it was hard enough to—"

" _No_ , Anna." It took most of Elsa's will power to say that without her voice breaking. A lump had formed in the back of her throat, threatening to choke her. The faint trace of snow dusting started to rise from her shaky palms. Elsa kept her fists tightly shut, holding them tightly by her sides. "But you _promised_ to teach me how to skate, remember?" Anna whispered, the hope in her voice faltering.

Elsa bit her lower lip. Of course she remembered. How could she forget? She did, indeed, promise to teach Anna how to skate. A few weeks before the tragic accident in the Great Hall, when Anna still knew about her powers, she froze the entire floor of their room, turning it into a mini-skating rink. Their room was big enough to skate around, and Elsa didn't need ice skates to keep her balance. Anna, on the other hand, kept tripping on her feet and dress, resulting in a fit of crying in humiliation and a very sore bottom. Elsa shook her head, ridding herself of the memories that would bring tears in her eyes. She exhaled a rattling breath and replied, "I know what I promised, Anna. But I want to be _alone."_

"And you never break promises either," Anna whimpered. Elsa was chewing her lip off. Tears stung at the back of her eyes. It was getting harder to breathe; it was as if a ton of weight was crushing her chest. She hatedto hear her sister sound so desperate and alone. She hated breaking promises to her. She hated _staying away from her._ Elsa hated herself for being secluded from everyone she loved; she hated her powers even more for making her a force of destruction just waiting to be released.

The floor around Elsa's feet had started to freeze over. Her trembling hands unleashed a miniature snow flurry above her head, causing snowflakes to fall in her room. She backed away from the door, praying that the frost on the floor won't slip underneath the door and touch Anna. "Go away, Anna!" she cried, making her voice sound convincing enough to send her away. It sounded more of a warning to keep her safe from Elsa's growing abilities. She trembled with fear as sharp points of ice sprouted from where her feet touched the floor, hastening to get away from the door. She gasped in horror as her room turned into a winter nightmare. The snow flurry above had released more snow. In a few minutes' time, she was buried in ankle-deep snow. Elsa hurried to close the curtains shut to hide her abilities from anyone outside, but her fingers were shaking so badly that she fumbled with the tie backs that were slowly turning into solid ice.

"Mama! Papa! Help me!" she yelled at the top of her voice, successfully shutting the curtains before the tie backs turned solid in mid-fall. Mist appeared by Elsa's mouth when she exhaled. Her heart hammered against her chest. The temperature in the room dropped by several degrees. Her vanity table had frozen over—and almost all her furniture. She was terrified. Though the scene of her room freezing over was familiar, Elsa couldn't handle the fear building up in her. Unless she could keep her powers under control, her room would _never_ unfreeze.

"Elsa!" she heard her mother yell. The door burst open, clearing a fraction of the snow. There stood Elsa's father, the King of Arendelle. Her father's light hair, which Anna had inherited, was tousled and unusually messy. His lips were slightly parted in shock at the sight of Elsa's room. Snow fell and spotted his black jacket, its embellishments tangled and out of place. Her mother, the Queen, trailed in her husband's wake. The silver tiara that rested on the top of her head was lopsided and in danger of falling off. Her dark brown hair was tied in its usual elegant bun, though strands of hair made it out of her hairdo.

"Mama…" Elsa whispered, her voice fading. She had held her hands near her chest, clasped tightly together over her heart. Elsa was curled up like a ball on the floor, making herself look small. Her knees pressed her hands tightly against her sternum, and she was shaking like a leaf on a strong windy afternoon. The Queen gathered her dark lavender skirts and ran to her daughter without getting off-balanced, the ends of her dress ripping when they brushed through the shards of ice from the floor. "Elsa! Are you alright? What happened, sweetie?" the Queen asked, cupping her daughter's face in her slim hands. Her blue-gray eyes were wide with fright and anxiety and motherly concern.

The King had shut the door before any of the royal staff members could see through it. The Queen carried a very startled Elsa to the bed and cradled her in her arms, letting her daughter rest her head against her neck. She felt very cold to the touch, and soon Elsa's mother was shivering, though she made sure Elsa would not notice. Instead she stroked and stroked Elsa's fair hair until she could feel her relax in her arms.

"What happened, Elsa?" her father asked, though he fought to maintain the demand in his voice to a minimum. Elsa's head snapped up to stare deeply into her father's green eyes. His expression was unreadable, but Elsa could hear a slight pang of disappointment in her Papa's tone. It was his idea to keep Elsa in the dark. He thought that the isolation would keep Elsa under control, but he feared that even the most protected fortress cannot stop his daughter's ever-growing powers. "I can't stand being cut-off from Anna, father," Elsa whispered. "She's my sister."

"It was never my intention to keep you away from Anna," said the King. "I just want to keep both of you safe. You have to stay strong, Elsa; otherwise _everything_ will fall apart." Pabbie's words rang in her head like an echo in a cave. _Fear will be your enemy._

"This is all my fault," cried Elsa, her ice cold tears running down her mother's neck. She couldn't fight them back anymore. The pressure that swelled up in her chest was too much. Elsa would explode if she had kept all of _that_ inside her. The Queen hushed her daughter and whispered, "Oh, honey. It's not your fault. It was an accident—"

The rest of the Queen's sentence was drowned by Elsa's fierce sobbing. She turned deaf ears to her parents' efforts to comfort her, and in the end, the room fell silent. The King and Queen both accepted that Elsa was inconsolable at the moment. For what it's worth, they lay on either side of her until she fell asleep, exhausted from crying too much.

* * *

Elsa woke up later that night. It was well past dinner time, and Elsa's stomach was growling. Her room had been completely defrosted, her bedside lamps turned on and casting low, flickering light. Someone was at the door. At first she assumed it was her sister, but the doorknob turned. The door swung open, and her mother crept in the room. Elsa sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Mama?"

"Good evening, sweetheart," she said in her most soothing voice. Elsa gave a weak smile as her mother sat by the foot of her bed. The Queen was wearing a long velvet dressing gown that covered her feet. The tiara was nowhere to be seen, and faint marks of her usual braided bun were imprinted on her soft brown hair. "How are you feeling, dear?" she asked. Her blue eyes looked gray in the faint evening light. Elsa nodded weakly. There was something in her hands, but Elsa couldn't make it out quite clearly.

"We went to the Valley of the Living Trolls today. Pabbie wanted to give you this," her mother said, handing it to her. It was a thin, hardbound book with brittle parchment pages that yellowed with age. The cover seemed to be made from leather that Elsa had never encountered before, tinted dark blue like the depths of the sea. Her mother stood up from the bed and brightened up the room just right for Elsa to read the title. On the cover, written in elegant script, were the words, _The Spirit of Winter._

"It's a book about a magical being that controls winter and ice. Kind of like you, Elsa," the Queen explained. Elsa's eyes widened. There was a myth about someone like her? "Read it to me, Mama! Please, please, please, _please,_ please!" she said, tugging at the sleeves of her mother's dressing gown. Smiling, the Queen took the book from her daughter's hands, sat beside her and began to read, _"'The Spirit of Winter is none other than Jack Frost. He is a young, magical embodiment of the winter season, gifted with powers over ice and snow. With no obligations and not bound by rules, Jack Frost can be more of a mischief-maker than an actual winter spirit—delighting in nipping at people's noses with—'"_

"He bites people's noses?" Elsa asked in horror, covering her own nose with her little hands. The Queen chuckled and continued, _"'—the chilly gusts of wind that he can create. He is often the being that parents will warn their child of in frosty winter mornings before they go outside. Myth says that he pulls tricks on people outdoors during a wintery day…'"_

Elsa's hunger for food was slowly transformed into desire to meet this Winter Spirit. The careful drawings in the book, depicting his power and what he was assumed to look like, fascinated her more than the lights that appeared in the sky. She had never felt this happy or excited about anything since her isolation. By the time her mother finished, she was literally bouncing up and down on the mattress. She wasn't alone! There was someone else out there, someone that had the same powers she had. Elsa jumped from her bed and sprinted to the window, watching out for signs that Jack Frost might be here in Arendelle.

Elsa's stomach growled loudly—loud enough for even a chucking queen to hear. "Looks like someone's _a bit_ hungry," the Queen said, ushering Elsa away from the window, "Come along now, my princess. I'll have Emily to make you your favorite lamb stew for dinner."

"And chocolate after?" Elsa asked.

"Of course." The Queen smiled at her daughter, and unbeknownst to them, a certain Winter Spirit was just listening to the story about himself, just outside the window.


	3. Chapter Two: Jack

**Author's note: 2nd Chapter's up! Hope you guys like it, and if you do, don't forget to leave a review down below and let me know what you think :)**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own anything except the story line and plot of this story.**

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 **CHAPTER TWO: Jack** _ **  
Very Little Faith and Too Much Remorse**_

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Jack stared through the windows, precariously balancing himself at the top of Princess Elsa's window. No blood rushed to his head as he hung upside down. His dark brown cloak was securely tucked underneath his thin body. His staff leaned against the slope of the castle roof just a few inches from his reach. It was a cold winter afternoon in Arendelle, and it was probably one of the harshest winters they've had. Not a soul was outside, but Jack vaguely noticed. No one could see him anyway.

It had been a century since Jack rose out of that lake. He had spent years looking for answers, and nights looking up at the Man in the Moon. The Moon was still unresponsive, and some nights he didn't feel like asking him questions at all. He knew his response would always be silence. No peculiar or glowing moonlight, no glittery magic. Just silence. Jack had watched time fly, had watched the seasons change, had watched people grow old and eventually, die. He had watched society grow more advanced by the day, but he still preferred to be _away_ from people. Seeing crowds made him reminisce his first night in Burgess. When people passed through him, it was like drowning in a pit filled with ice cold water. He couldn't breathe, and though he was impervious to cold, he shivered all over. It was as if they took a part of him as they passed, leaving him empty and nauseous and completely aware that he was alone…

Jack suppressed a shudder. He hated it when he absently recalled what it felt like.

Little Elsa was reading her book, _The Spirit of Winter,_ on a couch by the window _._ Her eyebrows were scrunched up in concentration, as if she was trying to memorize the book word for word. It was raining snowflakes in her room, but Elsa seemed to neither notice nor care. Jack smiled. He had always been attracted to people who read stories about him or mentioned him, hoping that they would somehow believe in him. But none of them had such a strong pull on him—no one except _Elsa_.

Jack had been flying around Norway spreading his winter magic that night. He was supposed to leave for London when he had passed by Arendelle. Most of the village lights were nothing but tiny flickering pinpricks from a distance. People were well asleep; the air was still and peaceful. Jack had noticed a faint evening light coming from one of the windows of the castle. He had raced towards it in excitement of what he would find. It had always struck him as odd when people weren't sleeping in during the winter, and his curiosity as to why people were still awake at this hour got the best of him.

That was the first time he saw Elsa since before she was alienated from others. Yes, Jack knew her. He knew about her identity, about her powers. He had been there when Elsa and Anna were playing in the ball room, partaking in the fun without them noticing his presence—an invisible third wheel. He had snuck in through one of the windows and had been playing in the snow with them before Elsa had accidentally hit Anna with her powers. He had followed them to the Valley of the Living Trolls, concerned for both of the sisters' safety. It was then did he realize how powerful Elsa had become.

Her beautiful blonde hair had been in a loose, messy braid, so Jack had assumed that she had just woken up. Her striking, crystal blue eyes, however, were puffy and swollen. _Had she been crying?_ Jack had asked himself. She bore a great resemblance to her mother: same pretty pale face, though her mother's eyes had been more of a blue-gray than Elsa's crystalline blue. He had hovered by Elsa's window while her mother read to her the story of Jack Frost. He had smiled whenever his name was mentioned. Elsa behaved like a good audience; she gasped, laughed and _oohed_ at all the right times. Jack had been too absorbed into the story and into the sound of Elsa's little voice that he hadn't realized it ended until she came bounding up the window. Instinctively, Jack had flown upward, hiding behind one of the nearest spires on the roof. He could just make out Elsa's beautiful pale face behind the partially frosted glass, eyes gleaming with hope and excitement of seeing the Winter Spirit from her book—

Jack was startled out of his wits when Elsa gave a small yelp from down below. He nearly fell off the roof, if he had not quickly caught himself. After repositioning himself, he peered down at her worriedly through the window. Her book lay abandoned by her knees. She was kneeling on the couch by the window, her hands held in fright near her heart. To Jack's horror, frost crawled up the window from where her hands touched the sill. Elsa was breathing heavily in terror, her gaze flitting from her hands to the newly frosted window. Before Jack could intervene, she ran to the door, pulled it open, and disappeared into the hallway.

* * *

"Elsa, where _are_ you?" Jack whispered to himself.

He had searched every nook and cranny of the castle, looked past every window and checked the gardens and the courtyards and _still_ he couldn't find Elsa. His anxiety grew and grew as the minutes passed without any luck of finding the gifted girl. Dread filled his entire being, flooding his brain with memories that caused his heart to ache. He felt sorry for Elsa. He pitied her for having been gifted with powers she can't hope to control. Seeing Elsa's young, crying face when she had accidentally hit her sister had multiplied the guilt Jack felt tenfold. If only—

Jack stopped by the King and Queen's windows. They were larger than the others, and more trapezoidal than triangular. The red velvet curtains were drawn, but one of the windows had not been fully covered. He perched cautiously on the window sill and peeked through the curtains. He could only see the King in there; slick light hair that looked like gold in the firelight and a perfectly trimmed pencil moustache. He was kneeling by the fire, his green eyes shining like emeralds. In front of him stood Elsa.

" _Finally,"_ Jack breathed.

The flames made Elsa's eyes look like gleaming sapphires. Her cheeks were slightly pink, from the heat or probably just tricks of the light. Jack noticed that she looked suffocated. Her breathing was shallow, as if she might faint at any second. She shifted her weight from one foot to another, inching away from the fire with every movement. He sighed. He knew the feeling; they were both sensitive to heat. The King was holding something white and small. A handkerchief, maybe? Jack leaned in closer. In the King's hands were a pair of white kid gloves too small to be his, but just right for—

"Elsa, give me your hands." Elsa didn't move. She stared in shock at her father. He reached for her trembling hands so that he could put the gloves on himself. "It's alright, sweetheart," he said reassuringly. With a sigh of defeat, she gingerly raised her hands, sucking in a deep breath while the King slipped the gloves on. To her surprise, her father's hands did not freeze, unlike her window earlier. The King closes Elsa's hand in his, saying, "The gloves will help. See?" Elsa glanced down at her new gloves. Her hands stayed enclosed in her father's. A minute passed, and still it did not freeze. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Conceal it," the King said.

Elsa smiled. "Don't feel it. _Don't let it show."_

They said the last bits of the sentence in unison. Elsa glanced at the window where Jack was hiding. She and Jack locked eyes for a fraction of a second before he turned away from the windows, letting the breath he was holding in the entire time out. _Did she see me?_ he thought, but he didn't dare look back to make sure. His hand felt cold. He opened his palm to reveal a single snowflake the size of a baby's closed fist. He stared at it as it wove in and out of his fingers before finally drifting off with the wind.

* * *

 _It wasn't your fault._

Jack shook his head in frustration. It was almost midnight, and the snowfall in Arendelle tripled in a matter of hours. He leaned casually against one of the castle spires near Elsa's window. The wind whipped his snow white hair and caught in his coat, making it swish like a cape behind him. She had fallen asleep with the gloves still on, hugging her book tightly like one would do with a stuffed toy. From the roof, Jack could see a little smile on her face as she slept peacefully.

He never thought that it would come to this. He never expected Elsa to get cut-off from everyone else. He certainly didn't expect that she'd hate her powers so much. These terrible turn of events filled Jack with guilt. If only he could just turn back time, and undo what he did…

His chest ached with remorse. He could feel it deep down in his gut that Elsa believed in him with her whole being. Jack was overwhelmed with joy, of course. Someone actually believed in him! For centuries, he felt invisible to everyone. He felt like a ghost of the past just passing through, trapped in time, forever unseen. Elsa will be able to see him; he just knew it. But what if she finds out his secret?

He couldn't help but think that whatever he was doing was even right at all. All this time watching over Elsa as she and her powers grew reminded him every second of every day that it was mostly his fault. He couldn't even let her see him. Besides, how could he even show himself to her without remembering what happened that night? The least he could do after what happened was to watch over her, and to keep her safe at all costs.

"I promise, Elsa," Jack said, his voice carried by the winter wind. "I'll make you happy again."


	4. Chapter Three: Elsa

**Author's note: Here you go :) Now remember, this story sort of coincides with events that happened in both movies (the _Frozen_ bit's pretty obvious, but the _Rise of the Guardians_ one will definitely come much later). Sit back, relax, and as usual, let me know what you think so don't forget to leave a review below!**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own anything except the story line and plot of this story.**

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 **CHAPTER THREE: Elsa** _ **  
Death and a Friendly Wind**_

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 _Arendelle, ten years later._

Elsa was restless. She couldn't sleep, couldn't eat and couldn't stop pacing—not while her parents were out at sea with this storm surging in.

Her dressing gown, which hid her long-sleeved, silken night dress underneath, swayed with her hips as she paced around her room barefoot. She had been walking around so much that she had worn a treading path on the Persian rug that carpeted the space between her bed and her vanity table. Her hands felt cold despite the gloves she always wore. They had always been part of her outfit since they had been given to her when she was eight, no matter what time of day. Sometimes her powers would "leak" through her gloved hands, but that rarely ever happened—except for the one or few times that Elsa had been in emotional turmoil.

Elsa stopped in front of her vanity mirror, gripping the edges of the table as if her life depended on it, staring deeply into her crystalline blue eyes. She had grown up to be the princess her father had wanted her to be: poised, regal and reserved. She had also shot up a few inches; now, she was taller than her mother, but still a couple of centimeters shorter than her father. Elsa did not need to wear the high heeled shoes that caused blisters on her feet. Her hair had been plaited the way her mother's had always been: pinned in an elaborate bun that weighed her head down. Though she had preferred it loose, her mother had always insisted on tying it in an awfully tight knot. "Your hair would get in the way of your pretty face, love," she'd said. "You'll get used to it." Her bangs had grown longer too, resting just above her perfectly arched eyebrows. If only her hair were dark brown instead of platinum blonde, then she would be the Queen's spitting image.

Staring at herself in the mirror reminded her so much of her mother that she forced herself to look away and start pacing again. Her parents. It had been only a few hours since they had left for an important royal wedding somewhere far away, and yet it felt as though they've been gone for months. It had been the first time they would part from Elsa for more than a day, and she was scared to death not only for herself, but also for them. The menacing storm that brought rain and forks of lightning was unnerving her. She glanced at the book on her bedside table. Reading _The Spirit of Winter_ had always calmed her. Elsa had read it so many times over the years that the words were already imprinted permanently in her memory. But this time however, the book seemed to lose its charm.

Elsa picked it up and flipped it open to a random page. Her room was dimly lit, but just bright enough for her to read. But the harder she tried to focus on reading, the more she got anxious. Instead of finishing a sentence, she constantly gazed up at the rain-splattered window, occasionally jumping when lightning flashed. The deafening thunder echoed in her walls, causing her gasoliers and lamps to flicker and shake violently. She sighed exasperatedly and slammed the book shut. She had been staring at the page far longer than usual, and for once, reading didn't help her relax.

She licked her lips and swallowed hard. A lump had formed in the back of her throat, which she realized was as dry as a desert bathed in the afternoon sun. There was a pitcher of water and a glass on the bedside table, beside the spot where her book was resting peacefully before she disturbed it. One of the chambermaids had brought it to her room a few hours ago, though Elsa had not been thirsty at the time. It had been untouched ever since.

Elsa inhaled slowly and deeply. _My parents are fine,_ she thought to herself. _They will come back for me._ She stood up from the bed and grabbed the pitcher firmly with two shaking hands as she poured water into the glass. She was just about to raise the glass to her lips when all of a sudden, as lightning lit up the sky and thunder reverberated in the walls of her room, her chest began to ache. She gasped in surprise. The glass slipped from her shaking hands and fell with a crash on the floor, bits of glass biting into her bare skin. Elsa clutched her chest. Cold sweat ran down the back of her neck. She couldn't breathe; she was panting. Her heart was hammering madly against her sternum. The water on the floor froze instantly as it made contact with her scratched feet. She felt lightheaded, the room around her doing three hundred sixty-degree loops. For a moment the only thing she could hear was the blood pounding in her ears. When she shut her eyes tight, she began to _see_.

 _Elsa saw lightning overhead, angry forks of electricity illuminating the stormy sky. All around her, waves as big as castles crested and rocked the ship violently, harsh winds catching at the damp sails. The mast bent and creaked against the force of the wind. The ship turned freely and wildly, caught in the endless succession of stormy waves._

 _On the ship, crewmen ran to and fro carrying whatever supplies they can, rushing to the boats that were assembled on one side of the ship. Her father among them, his hair sticking to his forehead, searching and screaming for her mother. "Iduna!" he cried, leaning against the mast for support. His face was a mask of terror, eyes wide in search for his wife._

" _Agnarr! I'm here!" said a voice behind her, loud enough to be heard over the surging storm. Elsa turned and, with astonished relief, found her mother coming up from the captain's quarters, gathering her soaked skirts above her knees to avoid tripping further on the slippery deck. The Queen reached her husband and clung onto him tightly, their hands interlocked. He seemed to be saying something to her, but Elsa couldn't hear it over the roaring thunder and howling wind._

" _Your Majesty!" one of the crewmen yelled. They were having trouble keeping the boats level. Just before her parents can get in a boat, an incoming wave blocked out entirely the stormy sky, a great wall of dark water coming straight for them. She heard her mother scream, and saw her father hold her close, as the wave crashed onto the ship with such force that the mast broke, and the ship was pulled under, eaten by the monstrous wave that killed the crewmen, the King and the Queen..._

Elsa blinked. Her mouth hung open, and she realized that she was sitting on the floor, still clutching her chest as if her heart would fall out. Shards of glass bit at her skin, but she neither noticed nor cared. Her heart shrunk. A feeling of emptiness was overwhelming her. Her back was sweaty, and ragged sounds that she recognized as her own breathing reached her ears. The storm outside raged on, and for a moment she considered herself to be dreaming. But no. The visions she saw were much too vivid and real. Then that means that her parents, her loving mother and father, drowned at sea. That means that they would not come back home. That means that she was _alone_ , maybe for good.

Tears flooded Elsa's eyes and cascaded down her cheeks like a flowing river. She hugged her knees to her chest, which were scratched by the glass and bleeding, images of her vision flashing in her mind's eye. She knew of a saying about a loved one's death, about how you could feel it in your bones even though you were far away from each other. No matter how much she convinced herself that it wasn't true, that the delusions she suffered from were only fantasy, her mind just couldn't accept it. From the crying and exhaustion, Elsa finally fell asleep, hunched by her bed. Before she lost consciousness, she saw a shadow by her window. She was sure that it was her own reflection, because the same pair of blue eyes were staring back at her.

* * *

Elsa sat with her back against the door, hugging her knees tightly to her chest. _The Spirit of Winter_ rested on her thighs, tear-stained and slightly frosted over. Her delusions the other night were not delusions at all—they were, as she had feared, _real_.

A letter had been sent to her by a puffy-eyed servant yesterday morning. Elsa had gingerly picked up the carefully sealed letter from its silver salver, and hastily the servant had dashed away, sobbing. Her chest had tightened. After closing the door, she had torn the letter open and had read it silently. It had been sent from the country where the royal wedding should have been held, stating that her parents had never made it there. Elsa's eyes had been flooded with tears before she even finished reading the letter. She had sunk down to the floor with her back leaning against the door for support. From where she had sat, ice had crawled on the floor, quickly spreading. Snowflakes formed in the stillness of the air, floating and stuck at a certain point as if time had stopped.

Elsa had been crying ever since. She had not eaten, nor slept yet. The sky was still iron-gray, as if it was mourning for her parents as well. All of Arendelle's people had gathered by the castle's gates the night before, their heads bent and holding candles. In other circumstances, Elsa would have let them through the gates. She would have let them stay for an hour or two in the courtyard, but with her powers out of control because of her emotions, she couldn't do it. It was much too risky.

Today was the day a funeral would be held for her parents, which took place right now, somewhere. But only Anna was able to attend. Her sister had sounded desperate when she had begged Elsa to join her, to be there for her especially since they were on their own now. For the first time, Elsa's voice had finally broke when she had sent her sister away yet again. She would have joined her in a second, but there was too much grief and depression in her heart; she was too afraid of her powers. No matter how much she wanted to be there for her sister, no matter how much she wanted to comfort her, she told herself that she couldn't let Anna or anyone in—that her powers could get dangerously out of control because her heart was torn.

Elsa stared blankly at her room, her eyes swollen. The skin around them, especially her cheeks, were tearstained and achingly dry despite the crying. Her room, like herself, was in turmoil. Everything had been completely frozen over; layer upon layer of ice had piled up whenever Elsa had had fits of endless crying and wailing. More snowflakes hung stuck in mid-air. The ones nearest to her face shifted with her every breath. Her gaze was fixed upon the book on her lap, her eyes flooding with tears. She missed the times when her mother and father had read to her this book, many times before she slept. Now she had no one to read to her ever again. Her chest and head were already aching, but she cried nonetheless. It was exhausting, sobbing all day and night. Her nose was clogged, and her temples throbbed. Even when she felt so empty, tears came and went nonstop, which only tired her even more.

The wind outside howled and echoed eerily in her room. Elsa was certain that it was by her doing, but she didn't find the energy to stop it. But the wind continued to roar, the whistling loud enough to wake Elsa up from her dazedness. The force of the wind was so strong that the windows burst wide open, sending the snowflakes in the atmosphere spiraling towards her. Elsa jumped a littler, and with a sigh, she waved her hand lazily, and the snowflakes dissolved. She was just about to get up and close the windows—when a blur of brown and white shot through them _._ Elsa yelped in surprise, pushing herself away from the thing, her back pressed flat against the door. _The Spirit of Winter_ toppled off her lap and onto the floor. The thing was grunting—wait, _grunting_?

The thing had crash-landed right in front of her, beside the trunk by the foot of her bed. It was obviously human, and masculine. His brown cloak was blown over his head, covering his face. He was still grunting and groaning, but he managed to get up on all fours. Where his head was, the cloak shook. "Forgive me, Your Highness," he said, his voice husky with a hint of mischief. It took Elsa a while to realize that he was addressing her. He stood up, his cloak falling back, but not his hood. He was tall and albeit slim, wearing brown pants that hugged his long legs with lighter straps of leather wrapped around them from the knees down. His pants ended in frayed hemlines, and he was barefoot, but he didn't seem to care. The cloak he wore reached his knees, and was covered in frost around the hems. He also wore a small, brown open vest with a long-sleeved, white cotton shirt underneath.

"I'm sorry for your loss, by the way," he added, turning around to close the windows with difficulty. The hood was blown back, revealing a mess of stark white hair as light as snow, rustling freely in the wind. Elsa was shocked—too shocked to speak or even move. After successfully closing the windows, he turned and said, "My apologies. I wanted to approach you easier and more dramatically, like an angel descending from heaven. I really need to work on my landing skills. But hey, you can't _control_ where the wind will blow."

Her heart leaped inside her chest. Goodness, if it weren't for the bad landing, Elsa would have _really_ mistaken him for an angel. His face was angular, both in a beautiful and a naughty way, with perfectly shaped eyebrows and long feather duster lashes. He had freckles scattered all over his nose and cheekbones, though they were hardly seen—unless you were _that_ close to him. His white bangs hung just above his eyes—oh, his _eyes._ They were as blue and cold as ice, yet they seem to hold something wayward and mischievous. She noticed that he seemed to be literally derived from the word—from that gleam in his ice-blue eyes to that crooked smile playing on his thin lips. Elsa realized that she was staring, and that her mouth was slightly parted into a gaping hole. She forced her mouth to move, and her voice came out small. "Who are you?"

The stranger ran his thin, pale fingers through his windblown hair in mock exasperation. "Funny, I thought that you'd recognize me," he said with a smile. "My name is Jack Frost."


	5. Chapter Four: Jack

**Author's note: Sorry for being very redundant in this author's note bit... should I stop? :/ Anyways, enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own anything except the story line and plot of this story.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FOUR: Jack** _ **  
A Spirit's Promise**_

* * *

Jack had been watching over Elsa for years. He had seen her grow into a beautiful and poised woman, even though it was from a distance. Now that he was here, standing less than five feet away from her, even the word _beautiful_ couldn't best describe her.

A moment of silence passed between them, their gazes locked as if for eternity. Though red and swollen from the crying, her crystalline blue eyes shown like a beacon. Her long lashes were glittering with tears. Her cheeks were tearstained and flushed light pink, emphasizing the light dusting of freckles that were scattered all over them. Her arched, pencil-thin eyebrows were raised in bewilderment, her perfectly shaped lips parted open in shock.

Then Elsa stood, completely ignoring the book that fell off her lap, and ran straight toward him. Jack's heart would have skipped quite a few beats if he were still alive. He remained frozen instead, the grin on his face melting away as she came closer and closer. And Elsa crashed into him like waves on the seashore. Her momentum made Jack stagger back a step. Her partially wet cheekbones grazed the side of his neck where his pulse should be. His breath caught in his throat as she laced her arms around his neck. His entire being had ached horribly just to _be near her_ all those years—to hold her when she was inconsolable, to kiss her good night when she had nightmares, or to brush a strand of hair behind her ear while she was reading. And now, here she was in his arms, and he couldn't even decipher where _he_ was. His mind felt like it was detached from his body, a million miles up above in space. Jack was too shocked to move for a minute. It took him another minute to realize that Elsa was whispering in his ear.

" _You're real!"_ she said hoarsely, yet the tone of her voice in his ear sounded like wind chimes swaying in the summer breeze. She repeated those words over and over again, as if she couldn't believe what she was saying herself. Snow had started to fall lightly around them. Jack's arms felt like lead, but nonetheless they wrapped themselves around her. Elsa was tall, and slim—but he was both taller and slimmer. He let his chin rest on the top of her head while she sobbed into his chest, her cold tears spilling on his shirt—tears of delight or sadness, Jack couldn't tell. His eyes fluttered close, his breaths hitched and uneven. Breathing was too old a habit to let go of. He didn't need to, yet some part of him clung on to that habit. He was just about to run his fingers through her soft, blonde hair when she pulled away, gasping for breath and hastily wiping her tears away. "I—I'm so—sorry," she apologized, her words partly drowned by her sobs. "I'm not usually this—this _emotional_. I'm sorry—your feet—"

Jack didn't understand why she kept apologizing. But then he saw her hands. Her powers.

From her feet crawled tendrils of frost that inched its way to envelop the room. Mist and glittery snow dust surrounded the air around her gloved hands. Elsa was desperately trying to control the frost before it reached Jack, holding her hands to her chest and squeezing her eyes in concentration. "Conceal, don't feel, don't let it show. Conceal, don't feel, don't let it show," she muttered over and over, but Jack knew that she could never hurt him. He stepped on the frost she had created, and when Elsa saw, she backed away from him. "No, stay back! I'll hurt you—"

"No, Elsa. You won't," he promised. Jack forced a smile of reassurance while he gathered whatever strength he had left to slowly but surely make his way towards her. Elsa took another step back, but instead her foot got caught on the long, wooden staff that lay abandoned on the floor. Jack immediately reached down for it, saying, "Ah, yes. That's mine. I must have dropped it when I crash-landed into your bedroom." He fought to keep his voice level, though it sounded an octave higher than usual. When he stood up, Elsa was sitting on the bed, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. It made her eyes look puffier, but Jack pretended not to notice. She was still pretty anyway—not that he was supposed to notice _that_ , either.

"You can't hurt me, Elsa," he continued, "After all, I'm _the_ Winter Spirit, remember?" He sat on the bed across from her, leaning his staff against bedpost. He cautiously reached for her hands, and like a frightened puppy, Elsa held them back. "It's okay, it's okay. See?" Very carefully, Jack held one of her pale, shaky hands in his own. Her hand wasn't cold—in fact, it was warm, and soft, and smooth. He wondered if she felt the same thing holding _his_ hand.

About a minute passed, and nothing happened. Elsa's eyes were wide and calculating, her gaze flitting from her hand to his eyes and back again. She was thinking so hard, he could almost see the gears turning in her head. Slowly, Jack turned her hand over and started to remove her glove. "No!" she cried, nearly snatching her hand away if it weren't for Jack's grip. "Stop!"

Once the glove was completely off, he held her hand in his once more. Nothing.

"This... I don't... it feels _warm_ ," Elsa stuttered, her tone very confused. Jack nodded, then he smiled—when he loosened his grip, on Elsa's palm sat two snowflakes, dancing in the air around their hands. The snowflakes circled around the two of them, almost as if they were chasing one another. Then they spiraled all the way up above their heads before colliding, sprinkling them with bluish white dust. Jack was laughing, and it was contagious enough that Elsa had begun to chuckle along with him. "You don't have to be afraid around me, Elsa. You can't hurt me," he said, tapping the tip of her nose and ruffling her hair in a brotherly way. She laughed, the sound reminding Jack of chimes swaying in the wind. But then it died down, and she was sad again. Jack frowned. Elsa looked at him, her eyes shining with tears that threatened to spill out. "I'm fine," Elsa whispered, "It's just…I thought that I wouldn't _live_ long enough to see you in real life. And with everything that's going on…my parents, the funeral…it's too much…" And she broke down crying again, her elbows balanced on her knees with her head in her hands. Jack felt his chest contract in sorrow. He never liked the sight of Elsa crying, and before it killed him to know that he couldn't do anything to help her. But she could see him now. _She needed him now_.

So Jack fought to keep his hand from shaking when he placed it lightly under Elsa's chin, forcing her to look up. He wished he hadn't—he saw the pain of loss in her swollen blue eyes. A waterfall of fresh tears cascaded down her cheeks, and she was gasping. "It wasn't your fault, Elsa," he said, as gently as he could. Jack felt a cold shiver run down his spine when he said her name.

Elsa held his gaze. "But I should be there, at the funeral. I'm the eldest. I should be strong for both Anna and me. But it's like the other way around. Anna's there, all alone, with no one to comfort her. And I'm the one who stays locked up in a room, torn to bits and broken to pieces," she said, tears welling up in her eyes. Snow had begun to fall inside the room. "If only I wasn't born with powers...if only I could _control it._ "

It took all of Jack's willpower not to reel backward or pull away. He tried to look Elsa in the eye, but failed. Instead he hung his head. How could he look at her, knowing that the truth was written on his face like black ink on a clean sheet of paper? He let his hand drop just as a knock came from the door. Elsa stood bolt upright, completely ignoring Jack, and sprinted towards it, her ear pressed against the wood. "Elsa?" said a voice. Jack knew that voice as well as Elsa did.

It was Anna.

As Anna spoke through the door that divided them, Elsa sank to the floor, shaking and willing herself not to cry. The snowflakes around them paused hanging in mid-air, as if time had stopped. She hugged her knees with her back against the door and bit her lip hard, tears spilling without her permission. Jack's heart felt like it was being trampled upon by a stampeding herd of bulls. Slowly, he approached her and knelt down beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He gently rubbed her shoulder, and hoped that it would comfort her. In the end, he wrapped his arms around her with her head under his chin. She cried into his shirt, her sobs muffled but still echoing in his ears. Her hands were clutching at his collar, her knuckles brushing against his sternum. If Jack were an ordinary human, he would have blushed dark red.

At some point, Jack slipped his hand under her thighs and around her shoulders, lifting her up bridal-style. He heard Elsa gasp, out of surprise this time, not because of the sobbing. She let him carry her back to the bed, where he set her down gently and pulled the covers up until her shoulders. He knew that she hated having the blankets pulled up to her throat—that she hated the choking feeling it gave her. Hesitantly, he sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress sinking down though he wasn't at all that heavy. The sky outside was getting dark, casting shadows on Elsa's face. She was staring at him, and no longer crying. "I believed in you my entire life. How come you only show up to me now?" she asked, shifting so that her head rested on her hand.

It took a while before Jack responded. "You're right about the believing thing. People can only see me if they believe. But so far, the world doesn't know that I exist yet," he said. Elsa was a good listener, but the question remained in her eyes. "Anyway, I had to come to you when you needed me the most. It sucks to be alone, I know, but you're lucky that you had parents—they helped you, they guided you, they protected you, and _they loved you_. Me? I had no one. I had to hold on to the one thought that kept me from breaking for ten years: and that one thought was that you will be seeing me, someday."

Jack couldn't believe what he was saying. He felt the mischievousness melt away and reveal the fragile teenage boy he was underneath. Elsa's gaze softened. She reached for his hand and curled hers around it, her palm warm and soft. He looked at their interlocked fingers, and from the slackening of her grip he realized that Elsa had fallen asleep.

* * *

It was around midnight when Jack had finally made up his mind. He had been awake and still for hours, watching Elsa's eyelashes flutter softly in dreams. His hand was still locked in Elsa's. Reluctantly, he slid his hand away from hers. Suddenly the heat was gone, replaced by the cold that ran in his veins. He missed it—both the heat and the feeling of her hand wrapped around his. It felt as if a piece of his life was torn from him; her hand had fit perfectly well with his.

He pushed the thought aside. Gently, he shook her shoulder. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she whispered, "Jack? You're still here?"

"Why wouldn't I be? A dream so good could only come to real life," he whispered back with a grin. Elsa blushed, and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. "Now, come on. I have to take you somewhere."

"Wait, what?" Elsa sounded genuinely startled. Siting up, her long blonde hair, which escaped its bun while she slept, fell over her shoulder. In the moonlight it was bleached of color, more of silver than blonde. Her skin looked pale and creamy, her eyes shining. Jack stood up, his staff in one hand and a long black cloak in another, which belonged to Elsa. He had found it on the back of a chair, and realized that it was what she would have worn to the funeral hours ago.

He dumped the cloak on the edge of the bed, and stood on the window sill with a flourish. With the hand that wasn't holding his staff, he beckoned for her to come with him. "You wanted to see your parents, right?"

The air was cold and brisk. Elsa gasped when Jack carried her again in his arms, this time to take flight. She squirmed in his arms, her hands bunched up tightly in his tear-stained shirt. He felt her heart slamming against his side. Jack wasn't used to flying slow, but he tried his best so that he wouldn't frighten Elsa. He smiled when she held her hand out to touch a passing cloud. When the nerves faded, Elsa was laughing, the sound of her voice filling his ears. Jack sped up, the sudden outburst causing Elsa to nearly strangle him in fright. They both laughed, breaking the silence of the still, night air. But when he settled her down on the grass at the foot of the low hill, their laughter died down.

Just this afternoon, this hill had been buzzing with people—some royals, the palace servants, and the fellow people of Arendelle. Now, it was eerily quiet, save for the crickets somewhere in the tall grasses. The moon was high above them amidst the sea of scattered lights of the fireflies. The darkness of Elsa's cloak brought out the paleness of her hair and face, and her eyes which were as distant as the stars. She dashed up the hill, with Jack taking off in the air after her. Upon reaching the top, he saw her in between the two boulders that served as gravestones in honor of her parents, who died at sea with their bodies never being recovered.

Elsa was crying again, her hands clasped above her heart. Her knees gave away, and she fell to the ground. Her shoulders were hunched as if against a strong wind. Jack approached her and put his hand lightly on her back, rubbing just below the nape of her neck. They stayed like that for a few minutes before Elsa stood, brushing the grass from her skirt and tears from her face, and faced him. "Thank you for bringing me here," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "It means a lot to me, now that I'm all alone now."

"But you still have Anna—" he began, but she cut him off.

"Anna is best kept away from me. I don't want to hurt her again," she said fiercely. "You're all I have left." The impact of her words hit Jack squarely in the chest like a punch. Dazed, he didn't feel Elsa crawl back into his arms, her head on his chest. "Please, Jack. _Please don't leave me._ "

She waited for his answer. Jack felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, deciding whether to jump in the harsh water below or turn back like a coward. He knew that he was on the brink of which there was no going back, but maybe, just maybe, this was the only way to clear his conscience. Finally, he wrapped his arms around her, and whispered, "Never."


	6. Chapter Five: Jack

**Author's note: Here's another chapter for you guys, and things will only go up from here *wink wink* As always, let me know what you think by leaving a review below... it really means a lot to me :) Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own anything except the story line and plot of this story.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FIVE: Jack  
** _ **Infatuation Held at Bay**_

* * *

"I actually didn't know you looked so _human_ when we first met," Elsa admitted, putting away the books she had already finished to make way for the new pile she had to read. "You looked like a blue-skinned elf in the book Pabbie gave me," she casted a glance at him, tilting her head and smirking, "but it's still a strikingly accurate representation."

"Har har, very funny, snowflake," Jack said, rolling his eyes at her. She shrugged and chuckled softly. "Do you really have to read _all_ of these?" he asked, helping Elsa bring down heavy volumes of leather-bound paperbacks. The palace library was empty except for the two of them. It was a large, spacious room with a dozen long tables made of dark wood set down the middle. Each table had an ornate brass candelabrum placed at the center that held candles high enough to illuminate the entire table. On either sides of the room were shelves upon shelves of books that disappeared into the gloom, placed at intervals with the surprisingly clean floor-to-ceiling windows. Movable ladders were built in on the shelves to reach books, particularly those high above their heads. There were smaller square tables near each window, and one of them was almost full of towering books.

Jack had been helping Elsa hunt for whatever book they could find about her country's history and culture all afternoon. Earlier in the day, a letter had arrived from the Royal Council, addressed to Elsa. She had read the letter twice, her eyes skimming the page, and then had collapsed on a chair in her room, her head in her hands. Jack had read the letter himself. The Council had decided that Elsa would take her parent's place as leader of their country, and that she had two years to prepare for her coronation as queen of Arendelle. "I can't do this," she had said through her fingers. Jack had placed a hand on her shoulder, trying his best to keep his voice from shaking. "Sure you can," he had replied cheerfully. "Your parents would be so proud of you." It had been a hard year for Elsa since her parents' death. She still had nightmares every night, and Jack had to hold her in his arms until she fell asleep—he didn't mind doing _that_ , though.

"How can they be proud of the monster that I am? Let alone lead in their stead with my uncontrollable powers?" she had said bitterly, completely ignoring Jack. He had been grateful that her head had been in her hands, otherwise she would have seen that his face was twisted in horror despite his cheery tone. He had never been quite comfortable whenever Elsa had talked about her powers. She sounded as if it was the one thing she hated most in the world—and Jack knew, of course, that it was. He only wished he knew how to keep the guilt out of his face whenever she blamed her powers.

After breakfast, they had gone directly to the library, where until now they had been fishing for books to supply Elsa with adequate knowledge for her role as queen. Jack set the books he was holding down on the table and exhaled loudly. Winter was almost over. Sunlight pushed through the gray cover of clouds in the sky, slivers of it pouring through the windows. His overcoat was slung over the back of a chair, and leaning against it was his staff. He brushed his bangs from his forehead, and his hand came away damp. Jack frowned. Can winter spirits sweat?

"A queen should be knowledgeable of her kingdom," Elsa replied. She stood at the top of the ladder connected to the sixth shelf they've raided, her blue eyes skimming for certain titles. She was wearing a loose, dark gray gown that came just below her knees. Like Jack, Elsa preferred walking around barefooted, as she was now. Her fair hair was braided messily down the middle of her back. Even from where he stood, Jack noticed, the intensity of her eye color was visible.

"Why not hire tutors? Don't most princesses have them?" he asked, leaning against the edge of the table with his arms crossed over his chest. She glanced down at him for a second, shrugged and said in a matter-of-fact way, "I could hire them, but I don't see the need. I am _independent._ "

She reached for a book and blew her bangs out of her eyes, scowling. "A little help here," she said indignantly. She stood on her tiptoes on the ladder, her fingers straining to reach for it once more. Jack sighed and flexed his fingers. He had just reached for his staff when her foot slipped. She screeched in a high-pitched tone as she fell from the ladder. He had only seconds before Elsa collides with the floor. Jack pushed off as fast as he could, the wind whistling loudly in his ear. Good thing he was fast; he never would have reached her on time. With a yelp, she landed in his arms, her eyes closed tightly, her breathing hitched and uneven. Elsa wasn't heavy, but he couldn't suppress a grunt when he caught her. Her momentum crushed the air out of his lungs, so to speak.

"All _that_ for a book," he said, his words coming out in a gasp. "I told you we had enough already."

Elsa's eyes flew open. They were hovering about a few feet off the ground, Jack's hands protective on her back and under her thighs. She crossed her arms over her chest and avoided his gaze. He could see the redness of her face, feel the beat of her heart against his chest. "You're as red as a tomato. Do you normally get like this when handsome gentlemen like me save you from imminent death?" he asked jokingly. He made an effort to keep his face straight, though a cocky grin was tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She ignored him. She seemed to be struggling to find the right words, her mouth opening and closing. "It wasn't just any book, you know," she said at last. Jack rolled his eyes and flew up. Elsa stiffened, and she laced her hands around his neck nervously. He guessed that she still wasn't used to the sensation of flying. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elsa cast a dubious glance at him, her full lips shaped like a small letter _o_. He kept flying until he was level with the book she tried to get. It was tipped at an angle, jutting out of the neat row of thick books. He tilted his head to the side, and read the title aloud, "' _How To Dance For Beginners_ '?" He raised an eyebrow at Elsa. She said nothing. "Are you _kidding_ me?"

Elsa's hands darted out, grabbed the book and then hugged it tightly to herself, blushing fiercely. "Just get me down," she demanded, "I still have a lot to read." Jack couldn't help it. He laughed out loud as they sank lower and lower to the ground, smiling in satisfaction when Elsa rolled her eyes at him and stormily stomped to their table. " _It's_ _not funny_ ," she grumbled venomously as he approached, propping a random book in front of her and beginning to read. He took off into the air and hovered above her upside-down, his shirt riding up above his navel. He saw the book's title before Elsa flipped it open impatiently: _The Kingdom of Arendelle._

"Aw, come on, Elsa," he said, rolling on his stomach in mid-air and kicking his feet up, "You've got to admit that that was actually quite amusing. You were all like—" He mimicked her high-pitched yelp and tried to look the way Elsa did when he caught her, but he ended up laughing so hard that he couldn't breathe. Jack saw Elsa's lips perk up in a small smile, and she replied, "I do not sound like a pig, Jack. Although, you do make the sound of the perfect damsel-in-distress."

"I'd make a better and _prettier_ damsel than you."

They laughed together.

* * *

It was almost midnight. Elsa's eyes were slowly drooping, and Jack took the liberty of returning the books she finished reading back to their shelves. By nightfall, he and Elsa had transferred to one of the larger tables at the center of the library. The candles casted a bright yellow glow over the book she was now focused on. There were still a lot of books on her table, and he doubted that she could finish them all in one night.

"You ought to go to sleep by now," he said, returning the last book to its home shelf. "You don't want eye bags, do you?" Elsa smiled wearily, and resumed reading. He had been trying to convince her to go to sleep for the past few hours now, but he had not succeeded. Once, he had tried to close the book she had been reading though she wasn't finished yet, and he had ended up with an angry red slap mark on the right side of his face. After Elsa had hit him with a book and had realized what she did, he had spent the next few minutes trying to stop her from apologizing over and over while she worked on his face. His cheek was still reddish, but it didn't sting anymore. In fact, he kind of found it cute when Elsa held fistful of snow she conjured up wrapped in cloth against his cheek.

"That's it. I'm so _done_. I'm never going to learn this all," she said, dropping her head in her hands. Jack approached her and looked at the book she was reading. He was surprised to see an illustration of people waltzing that took up an entire page. There was a footnote at the bottom for the picture, but it was too small for Jack to read. On the next page were, as they looked to Jack, notes and procedures, about where to put one's hand while dancing, how to bob a perfect courtesy, and basically, how to _dance_.

"Didn't your parents ever teach how to dance?" he asked, leaning forward. Elsa stifled a yawn, and shook her head wistfully. Her eyes were red and yearning for rest, exhausted from all the reading they've done since this morning. "They never had the time to," she answered. "They found no need to teach us how to dance. After all, no more balls have been held here since, well, since it happened."

Jack frowned. Elsa resumed reading, sighing audibly. She ran her fingers through her hair, messing her braid up further. Already strands of fair hair were falling past her face. Then his face lit up in a smile. He took Elsa's hand in his. Her head snapped up, her lips parted in surprise. "You can't learn how to dance without a partner," he said, smirking, hauling her up from the chair. "And I happen to know a thing or two about dancing."

"Oh, really?" Elsa asked, amusement in her voice. Jack led her to the small, open space at the back of the library, which was covered with soft Persian carpet. He figured that it was for kids who wanted to read. He turned around, her hand still in his. He let it go and said, speaking formally in a mocking way, "This is where the gentleman—that would be me—asks for the lady's permission to dance." Jack bowed, one arm folded over his abdomen and the other at the small of his back. He bent down so low that he could almost kiss the carpet, and straightened up in a snap, whipping his hair back as he did so. Elsa snorted. "You do the courtesy as a greeting," he added. She, too, mocked formality and bowed her head in a graceful courtesy. "Not bad," he observed. Jack extended his hand. She took it with a flourish. Slowly, he turned it over, and his lips brushed the back of it, just a simple gesture that sent a hitch in his breath. Elsa was surprised, her curious round eyes blinking at him. "This is part of the greeting, I think," he said, shifting their interlocked hands and holding them outward.

Elsa laughed, but her laughter was short-lived. Jack took her other hand and placed it on his shoulder, pulling her close enough that he could feel her heart jumping in her chest. He hesitated, and said, "Before I proceed, will you promise not to hit me?"

She pretended to look hurt, though a warm smile played on her lips. "I said sorry already, didn't I?" she said. Holding his breath, he placed his free hand on her waist. When he looked up, Elsa's face was alarmingly red, humor and fake hurt wiped clean off. She was chewing nervously on her lower lip. He smirked, and said, "Step on my feet, if you dare."

"Is that a challenge?" she replied levelly. At first, teaching Elsa to dance was a pain. She kept stepping on his toes, and for once Jack regretted being barefoot. He shook his head, and after several tries at the dance, they were gliding on the carpet, their movements nearly synchronized. He was surprised at how fast Elsa learned to fit her movements with his, to turn when he turned, to step back when he stepped forward. Elsa was laughing, her hair escaping its braids and cascading down her back in curls and waves. He spun her around, her skirt billowing outward, their gentle laughter filling his ears. If he were alive, his heart would have been spinning like a top in his chest with pure ecstasy. And then finally, Elsa lost her balance and she tripped. Again, she would have hit the floor if it weren't for him.

He caught her, his hands on her back, holding her close, not allowing even a millimeter of space separate them. She was panting, and so was he. He sometimes forgot that he didn't need to breathe, that his lungs didn't require oxygen anymore. But whenever he was with Elsa, he felt normal. He felt as though he was a normal teenager with a normal life, rather than a confused hundred-year-old immortal spirit with powers over winter. When he was with her, he felt _human._

"Jack," she whispered. The tip of his nose brushed hers, her wide-eyed gaze fixed on his. In the moonlight, her eyes were as bright as the stars beneath her thick lashes. Elsa cupped the back of his neck, her knuckles brushing the tips of his hair, batting his eyelashes at him in a way that would have made him blush. She tilted her head back as he leaned forward, the distance between them getting smaller and smaller until Jack felt their upper lips brush—

 _It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault._

Memories of the night flooded his mind, forced him to pull back and sigh in disappointment. His eyes remained closed, though he felt Elsa's eyes snap open. He let his forehead rest against hers, his hand cupping her cheek. He felt her heart hammering against his chest, her pulse under his fingers, her uneven breath all over his face. "I think that's enough dance lessons for one night," he said with a weak grin, opening his eyes at last. He tried to ignore the disappointment, bewilderment and desire that flashed in Elsa's eyes before she broke away from his embrace and walked to the library doors without a backward glance.


	7. Chapter Six: Elsa

**Author's note: Hi guys! Just a little heads up I might be posting new chapters weekly now instead of daily, as I'm running a little low on creative juices at the moment I need time to refresh and find new inspiration. But I hope you still read my story! Anyways, as usual, let me know what you guys think and leave a review or fav/follow me/my story :) Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own anything except the story line and plot of this story.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER SIX: Elsa** _ **  
**_ _ **The Thin Line between Lies and Excuses**_

* * *

"Your head is drooping," Jack observed. He was sprawled on one of the nearest tables to the carpeted space of the library, where Elsa was balancing three light books and a wine glass on the top of her head while walking. She made an effort to keep her chin up without spilling the contents on her head, turned to him, and asked, "Is this better?"

"Definitely," he said with an encouraging smile. His head rested on his palm, and though his bangs covered his eyes, she could feel his gaze following her. He came in and out of the castle without the cloak she'd first seen him in nowadays, claiming that he had stashed it away in a hollow tree by a lake somewhere far from Arendelle. He had said that it was easier to move around without it. Jack's staff was leaning against the table's edge, his toe curling and uncurling around it. Jack had many nervous habits, Elsa noticed, and he was constantly in motion. "Try moving your arms a little while you walk," he suggested. "You look stiff."

"You know that I look stupid when I do that," she said, slowly taking the books and the wine glass off her head. She felt as light as a feather, though the joints in her neck were sore. She exhaled a sigh of relief. Elsa had perfected her studies last year, with the help of a tutor, as Jack had suggested. Turns out, Elsa could not last a week without help. With only a few more months before her coronation, she now focused on her grace and posture—and also, more importantly, on her powers.

Her powers. The coronation. Elsa had nightmares of different scenarios of her coronation, most of which involved turning the castle into a huge igloo and accidentally making human-sized ice sculptures. Among her many fears was that she'd turn the scepter and orbto ice the second she wields them in her hands, thus exposing how dangerous she was. She didn't want to, but because it was part of tradition, she could not avoid it. And also, guests from various countries, royalties from all around, and old family friends would be coming to the coronation. What if they found out about her secret? What if they see her as the dangerous person she is, and lock her away?

"Elsa!" Jack exclaimed. She shook her head, ridding herself of her nightmares, and gasped. The things she was holding had completely frosted over, and they were slowly turning to ice; she wasn't wearing her gloves, which were on the table next to Jack. In her surprise, she dropped the books, the wine glass shattering by her feet. Jack was in front her in a blink of an eye, his hands on her shoulders. "Are you alright? What happened?"

She didn't answer, for the pulse in her throat quickened unexpectedly. They hadn't been this close since the time they nearly kissed in this very spot. Even at night, Jack would just sit by the window instead of on the bed with her, chatting with her until she felt tired, watching over her and calming her down when she had nightmares. She kind of missedthe feeling of his body against hers, and the times she had laid her head on his shoulder. He would brush her hair with his fingers in a way that made her eyelids heavy, and sometimes they would fall asleep holding hands. All she could think about now was his perfect nose, angular jaw, thick eyelashes, his naughty eyes…

"Earth to soon-to-be-queen Elsa," Jack said impatiently, waving a hand in front of Elsa's face. She blinked and shoved his hand away. "I'm fine," she whispered, stepping back and dropping her gaze. She knew that Jack knows how nervous she was. It was hard to believe, but even the great, mischievous, fun-loving Jack Frost can't cheer her up, no matter how hard he tried. "I was just worried about, you know, my powers. If I so much as sneeze with snowflakes coming out my nose, I'm doomed. Not," she added hastily, "this has _ever_ happened to me."

"Really?" he asked, eyes wide with amusement. "Snowflakes come out your nose when you sneeze?"

She smacked his shoulder playfully. "Of course not!" she said. But it was too late when she looked away. Jack already saw her blush. She rolled her eyes at his goofy grin and said, "Well, sometimes." He burst out laughing, and Elsa had to try her best to keep quiet as Gerda, a palace servant, brought Elsa's lunch into the library.

* * *

They were outside, deep in the gardens, where a two-inch thick blanket of snow covered the land. Elsa was reading leisurely under the biggest tree in the garden, with Jack's head on her lap. She held the book in an angle that covered his face, so she couldn't tell whether he was asleep or not.

She felt safer indoors, but now she was worry-free. Jack was with her, which meant that she had nothing to worry about. Though she did keep an eye out for anyone passing by, especially Anna. She'd lose her mind if she hurt her again. There was a sound in the distance, a rustle of a bush, which made Elsa tense. She turned to the side, disturbing Jack. "What's wrong?" he asked. Elsa squinted. The shadows under the bushes seem to be moving. She shook her head, and stared at the bushes again. Nothing.

She sighed in relief. Elsa made a mental note not to eat too much chocolate after lunch. "I thought heard something. Probably just a cute little bunny hopping by," she muttered.

"You'd be surprised. Some 'bunnies' are this _big_ ," he said, extending his arms out as far as he could. She laughed and Jack lay back on her lap. Elsa smiled and resumed reading, one hand holding her book while the other was gently stroking Jack's hair. Her gloves, which had become a permanent accessory to her outfit, were left discarded on the blanket of snow next to them because Jack believed that Elsa didn't need them—but she kept them near just in case. Just a few moments later he began to snore. Elsa ignored him, rolling her eyes, and focused on her book. Only then did she realize that he had begun talking in his sleep.

" _Elsa,_ " he breathed, his head shifting on her lap. Elsa set her book aside and glanced curiously at Jack. His eyelashes fluttered in dream, his eyebrows furrowing and unfurrowing continuously. The hand that rested on his chest was clenched tightly in the material of his vest. She thought at first that the tips of her hair were tickling his face and that he wanted her to stop, but then he spoke again. "Elsa, I'm sorry… I didn't mean to…" he said, his voice pleading. "Forgive me… Please, don't leave me… Please…"

"Wait, what?" she said, frantic. He didn't respond. There was something in his voice that Elsa had never heard before: _fear._ Elsa panicked. "Jack? Jack, wake up!" she said, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. He kept muttering words that were slightly inaudible. His face was paler than usual, eyelashes fluttering madly. She had read about certain deaths caused by nightmares, and that people who had them had trouble escaping their dreams. "Jack!" Elsa cried. She had half a mind to hit him with her book so that he'd wake up, but she trusted her better judgment. She cupped his face in her hands and at her touch, Jack's eyes flew open.

" _IT WASN'T MY FAULT!"_ he shrieked, pushing her aside and sitting bolt upright. Her back hit the base of the tree hard. Jack was panting, his eyes fixed on something in the snow that she couldn't see. Elsa's breaths were shallow. She wondered whether it was from the pain in her back, or from the fact that _Jack pushed her._ "I'm sorry," he said. Before she could say anything, he was gone, and all she could do was gape in surprise after him.

* * *

"He's hiding something from me; _I can feel it_ ," Elsa said, talking to her reflection on the mirror while she combed her hair. Jack had not yet returned, though it was already dark and late. Her face was a mask of worry, doubt and exhaustion, but she had already agreed that she would wait for Jack to come so that she could ask him about what happened in the gardens. She felt in her bones that there was something he wasn't telling her. But what could it be? What did he do? Was it something about his past that he could not share with her, or with anyone? Was it something so grave, that he couldn't tell her because of fear of discovery and punishment?

"Don't you trust me enough, Jack?" she asked the mirror, and saw her own shoulders shrug. Elsa sighed, setting the brush down on the vanity table. "Because I do. _I trust you with my life,"_ she whispered, just as three quick taps on the window broke the silence of her room. She turned slowly, and as expected, he was there, perched on the sill of her window, an apologetic and nervous smile on his lips. She stood and cocked her head to the side. He frosted part of the window with his staff and wrote: _Sorry I left. Forgive me?_

She smiled and let him in, feeling the cool winter breeze on her skin in the brief second that she opened the window. "Where have you been?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips the way her mother used to when she would scold her and her sister.

Jack shrugged the snow off his long brown overcoat, and from under his arm, he produced a rose about a foot long, completely made of glittering blue ice. The petals curved in a way that resembled a real rose, and the stem was crooked artistically. She felt her mouth part open in surprise and awe. "Sorry, my lady. But these things are pretty hard to make. I had to have it carved by an old, _old,_ friend of mine," he said, offering her the ice rose.

Without hesitation, Elsa took it, and said, "It's beautiful. Thank you."

Jack took her hand and kissed the back of it, saying with that irresistible smirk of his, "I hope this means that I'm forgiven."

"Of course you are," she replied. She couldn't help but smile too. She bobbed a polite courtesy and found an empty vase on her vanity table, where she put the ice rose for display. _So beautiful_ , she thought, _and yet so fragile_. The sudden thought made her frown. Is that why Jack won't tell her his secret? That she might break? That she might fall apart to the extent that she can't be fixed?

"Hey," he said. He must have seen her frown in the mirror. "Are you okay?"

She thought quickly. He can't know that she was doubting him. Not now, not when she needed him the most. Coronation Day approaches, and she's going to need Jack more than ever. If he found out that she was suspecting something, he might leave. She couldn't afford that. "It's just," she began, choosing her words carefully, "my coronation is in the summer. You won't be able to stay for long."

"Hey," he said, turning her around. His hands always felt warm whenever he touched her, and the way he placed them on her shoulders made her nerves tingle with electricity. She could smell the fresh air on him, see the lighter blue patterns in his eyes. Up close they looked like snowflakes. If she could only see what he's hiding in his eyes…

"Are you kidding me? I wouldn't miss it for the world!" he said, grinning like a child on his birthday. "Plus, I've waited all year to get to see you dance." He winked at her before she hugged him as tightly as possible, so that he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. He hugged her back immediately, and she dreaded the time that he had to let her go.


	8. Chapter Seven: Elsa, Jack

**Author's note: Hi! I've got some apologizing to do, and I hope that you can forgive me :( See, I don't really know how works, so I didn't realize that I had this "Moderate guest reviews" option on, which gave me 36 hours to view anonymous reviews and decide whether to post them or not, and after 36 hours I think it automatically deletes the anonymous reviews if I ignore them... I'm really, really sorry for those of you who wanted to review anonymously, but didn't see their review get posted :( I was really unaware of this option, but I fixed it already so I hope that you continue reading my story and leaving comments because I love hearing from you guys :) Thanks and enjoy! BTW there's gonna be a change in POV later, but the chapter title's still the same.**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own anything except the story line and plot of this story.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER SEVEN: Elsa** _ **  
**_ _ **It's Coronation Day**_

* * *

Elsa was practicing her coronation rites with a candleholder and a spherical ornament, counting in her head how many seconds it took before the ice enveloped the objects completely—and it was nowhere near enough time for the rites to be completely finished.

She groaned in frustration, stomping her foot, and failed to stifle the yawn that followed. She didn't sleep well the night before. Her nerves had been on the edge, and her brain had refused to stop thinking. She had ended up lying still in bed for hours, blankly looking up at the ceiling, wondering what on earth she was going to do until the first light of dawn had peeked through her curtains. Elsa had trouble comprehending the fact that it was Coronation Day, and that there was no escaping it. Later in the afternoon, a mass would be held in her honor, and then the bishop would ask her to hold the Royal Orb and Scepter as he recites her coronation rites. The only problem was that Elsa wouldn't be allowed to wear her gloves during that point in the ceremony—and she couldn't do anything about it, as it was part of the tradition.

After dressing up, she had gone to eat breakfast, but quickly lost her appetite after a few bites—she didn't even touch the double fudge sundaes for dessert. Instead, she had made a beeline for her study, where a portrait of her father during his own coronation hung on the wall by the window. She had wasted the entire morning there, staring up at her father, practicing the rites, praying that she could pull this off without exposing her powers to the entire kingdom.

Another unsettling thought that bothered her more than it should was the weather outside. The sun was bright and high in the sky, which was crystal clear and spotless. There were no clouds in sight, and that made her frown. The heat was a pain to deal with—especially in a full length gown and an even longer and heavier cape on her back. Even though Elsa was used to this feeling, as summers in Arendelle usually got really hot, the pressure on her was doubled, thanks to her pre-coronation nerves. This morning she wondered if she could conjure a thin cloud cover so that the temperatures would go down, not just for her sake, but also for a certain Winter Spirit who promised to come and watch her dance.

Jack had flown off to the colder regions of the world at the beginning of the summer, which was about a month ago. Some nights, when the temperatures where cold enough, he would come and visit her, but he didn't stay very long. Jack couldn't stand the summer heat. Last night, however, he didn't come. Elsa even left her window open for him, but he didn't show up. She was so used to having him around; she missed his deep, hearty laugh and that fresh peppermint smell that was unique only to him. She missed his snarky remarks, his hilarious jokes, and all the wonderful stories he would tell her before bed. She _needed_ him now, but she knew that he couldn't stay; the heat would be too much for him. And yet, she still found herself looking at the window often, expecting to see that mess of white hair and beautiful blue eyes just watching her with that signature smirk of his playing around his thin lips. She shook her head and sighed. "It's only for today," she muttered, picking up her teal gloves on the table, "but it's agony to wait."

 _He'll be back later tonight,_ she thought as she slipped the gloves on. She wanted to skip the waiting game. The longer it took, the more anxious she got—if it wasn't for the heavy, magenta cape she wore, she would have started pacing all around the study. She thought about the whole day of interacting and socializing with other people. Just thinking about it made Elsa feel tired already—that and keeping her powers in check would be draining most of her energy tonight. Her powers. People. Nobles from different nations. _Put on a show, Elsa,_ she thought, closing her eyes, pushing those thoughts to the very back of her mind. She looked up at her father, half-expecting him to back to her or calm her down. Her heart ached; she would have given anything for her parents to see this day. Would they be proud of her, for coming this far? Well, only one way to find out, and that was to make it through the night without any slip-ups. _Be the good girl you always have to be,_ as her father used to say _._

She sucked in a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. Elsa opened the doors of her study, and loudly proclaimed, "Tell the guards to open up the gates."

* * *

 **CHAPTER SEVEN: Jack**

* * *

Jack was sitting at the top of a mountain, his hair rustling in the strong wind, his legs buried deeply in the snow. The sun shone brightly overhead, despite the clouds he made to block it out. The heat wasn't too bad; it was cold enough for him up there, but he still had to keep making it rain snowflakes to keep cool. He could have just gone to the arctic for the rest of the summer, maybe even try to break into the North Pole once or twice and annoy Phil the Yeti like he usually did to pass the time. But he did promise Elsa that he'd be there for her coronation, so he decided to stay at one of the mountaintops surrounding Arendelle so that he'd be close by. He had been meaning to visit her for days now, but the weather just wouldn't allow it. Every time he tried to fly down to Arendelle, he would start to feel lightheaded halfway down the mountain, where winter melted away to summer and revealed the green life thriving underneath the blankets of snow. He knew he had a lot to make up for, especially since he didn't see her the night before Coronation Day.

He watched the ships on the horizon sail in one by one as the morning passed. He watched them dock on the lake surrounding Arendelle, and wondered how many nations came to see his princess be crowned queen on this very special day. Now that he thought about it, he wondered how Elsa was doing at this very moment. He knew that it would be the first time in a long, _long_ time since the palace opened its gates to outsiders. He knew that Elsa was nervous not only because of her powers, but also because her isolation took its toll on her socialization skills. He couldn't fight back a laugh as he remembered that one time in the library, when Jack pretended to be a guest and Elsa had to try to start a conversation with him. "It's not fair," she had said, pouting, "I already feel comfortable talking to you."

"That's the trick. Just pretend you're talking to me. Try again." She had rolled her eyes at him, so he made a long, silvery mustache out of frost appear with a wave of his staff. He also tried to do his very best Russian accent, which only made Elsa laugh out loud.

Oh, if he could only see her now. If only her could be down there with her as they placed that crown on her lovely blonde hair. If only time went faster, so that the sun would come down and he could fly straight for Arendelle. As the hours wasted away, Jack eventually fell asleep, completely unaware that the sky above him gradually darkened, and that the shadows around him began to move.

* * *

 _It wasn't my fault._

 _Oh, but it was, wasn't it?_

 _It wasn't my fault—_

 _She'll never forgive you._

 _It wasn't my fault—_

 _She'll never believe in you again._

 _IT WASN'T MY FAULT!_

Jack startled awake, his breathing quick and rapid, his hands clutching at his chest. He realized that it was night time, and that the sky above him was alive with the northern lights. He instinctively reached for his staff, and his heart dropped when he realized it wasn't where he last left it. He dug through the snow, clawing at the white dust, searching for his staff, when he saw it slowly skidding down the mountainside. "No, no, no, no, no," he cursed under his breath, getting up and chasing after his staff. Thank goodness Jack was light-footed; he could run faster than he could fly, and his feet never sunk in the snow. His staff was about to fall into this deep ravine, and without it, Jack would be powerless. Jack ran faster, extending his hand, desperately trying to grasp his staff before it fell off the mountain face, and upon instinct, he jumped after it.

It wasn't too far a drop; he managed to catch it before they plummeted into the darkness of the chasm below. He hovered in mid-air, his grip on his staff turning his knuckles whiter than normal. Then the Moon came into view, bathing Jack in its iridescent glow. "Not now, Mim," he grumbled. Mim was a nickname he used for the Man in the Moon, in hopes that it would annoy him and finally talk to him. But then the glow shifted, like a spotlight which now shone over Arendelle. In that exact moment, he felt something change in the wind. It carried a different aura as it blew past, and Jack could _feel_ the tension in the breeze. He put two and two together, and his eyes widened.

" _Elsa."_

He raced down the mountain, commanding the wind to carry him faster than it ever did before. There was something wrong, and he could _feel_ it. In no time he was circling the palace, looking for signs of danger, and found Elsa amongst the crowd in the courtyard. It wasn't at all hard to find her; her magenta cape was strikingly vibrant and distinct, and so was her platinum blonde hair. She stood before a fountain that had warped and frozen over completely. The claps of her subjects became cries of terror. From the above, Jack saw something else entirely. The villagers' shadows were _moving_ , and they looked nothing like normal shadows. They had their own mouths that gaped wide open, and hollow, glowing eyes. Their arms and fingers were long and thin, spindly like a spider's legs. The crowd's shrieks caused him to look away for a moment, and when he tried to discern the weird shadows again, they disappeared. Elsa had fired a bolt of ice at her captors, and the blast made them all fall backward. "Monster! Monster! Seize her!" a small, old man with round specs and a pointed nose cried, pointing an accusing finger at her. Elsa ran for the courtyard exit that led to the fjord, her cape billowing behind her. This time, the shadows followed her, crawling on the floor unnoticed by the crowd.

Jack flew as fast as he could to meet Elsa by the edge of the lake, where she stopped. She was panting real hard, her ungloved hand clutched tightly to her chest. The water near the edge began to freeze over, startling her. He could see the shadows close in on her from _everywhere—_ on the walls, on the ground, but he didn't stop to wonder if she saw them too. He swung his staff, causing frost to spread on the castle walls and a few of the shadows to retreat into the darkness. He landed in front of her, standing protectively in between her and the shadows with his staff pointed at them. "Jack!" she cried, her nails digging into his arm. The shadows grew on the walls of the castle, their mouths twisted into a taunting sneer. One of them opened its mouth wide and spoke. "Elsa!"

Jack expected its voice to be low, raspy and ghoulish. But no— _it sounded exactly like Anna_.

"Anna—" Elsa started, but Jack held her back.

"Elsa, it's not her," he said, not taking his eyes off of the shadow monsters. His staff felt like it was vibrating in his grip, as if it were ready to explode. The shadows seemed darken furiously. "Get to the other side of the lake and keep running. I'll find you."

"But Jack—"

"RUN NOW!"

Elsa cautiously stepped on the frozen water, and realizing that she could run on it, she bolted. The shadows tried to lunge past Jack and after Elsa, the noises they made raising the hairs on the back of his neck. They left the walls and partially solidified into large, humanoid figures. They were surrounded by a hazy black aura, and seemed to absorb any form of light. The air around them felt colder and thinner, and Jack was having trouble focusing because of their ghoulish noises. He managed to keep them at bay while Elsa continued running to the other side of the lake. Jack waved his staff wildly, shooting bolts of frost and ice at the monsters, which turned them into statues of dark colored ice. One of them managed to grab onto the hook of his staff, and it froze almost instantly, its long fingers stuck to the staff. Jack yanked his staff as hard as he could, the force causing the frozen shadow to explode into a million pieces. He smashed the other shadows with his staff, cutting them cleanly in half before they shattered on the floor. He took off into the air and the remaining few followed him, their long arms reaching out to grab him. Some of them were crawling on the frozen water where Elsa ran on, already hot on her trail. "Leave her alone!" Jack yelled furiously, but the shadows weren't discouraged. In fact, they seemed to be laughing at him. He dove back to the earth, the shadows behind him missing him by a hair's breadth. He slammed his staff on the ice, and the impact made a bright flash of blue light and frost everywhere. The shadows' pained shrieks pierced through the night air, and they retreated faster than they arrived, dissolving into the darkness of the lake below him.

He didn't stop to wonder what they were and why they were after Elsa. He took to the skies immediately, scanning the forests for her, keeping an eye out for the monsters in case they were close by. He was slightly distracted when Mim's light shone on him once again, but he ignored it. The moon seemed bigger tonight, and the northern lights had nothing on its otherworldly glow. Mim liked to follow people around, but Jack couldn't afford to be bothered right now. He continued to search for Elsa, weaving in and out of the trees at first, then flying high above them to get a bigger visual. He was so focused on looking for that vibrant magenta cape that he didn't see it coming straight for him until it collided with his face, completely obscuring his vision and throwing him off balance. He tried to take the thing off with his free hand, but he was descending real fast. By the time he got rid of the cape, the last thing he saw was the white, powdery snow before he dove headfirst into it, completely losing consciousness.


	9. Chapter Eight: Elsa

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own anything except the story line and plot of this story.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER EIGHT: Elsa** _ **  
**_ _ **Snowballs and Fun Times**_

* * *

Elsa was proud of her work, but she was also very exhausted. She didn't get the chance to use the full extent of her powers until now, and it took her the entire night to build her ice palace, which stood and dominated over the entire mountaintop. Her palace gleamed and sparkled like a huge diamond where the sunlight hits, lighting up the whole interior and turning it into a light crystalline blue. She stood at the center of this large, snowflake pattern she created on the floor, turning around in a circle, taking everything in. She was ridiculously pleased that her huge, ice, snowflake patterned chandelier, which hung above her head, turned out more beautiful than she imagined it would. Even her outfit matched her palace—the long, lace cape, the light blue color, the snowflake designs, not to mention the snowflakes in her loosely braided hair.

The sound of her heels on the floor was loud and echoing; she really was alone, but it didn't feel like the suffocating isolation she suffered from the past. She was alone, but she was _free_. That's why she jumped ten feet in the air when the doors to her balcony opened behind her, but she calmed down when she heard a whistle and a familiar voice say, "I _love_ what you've done to the place."

Jack was casually sitting on the railing, swinging his foot like a child does when he's sitting on a tall chair. He was looking up and around, his eyes full of awe and wonder. He held his staff in one hand, and her magenta cape in the other. When he saw her looking at it with a subtly raised eyebrow, he held it up, making a clicking noise and shaking his head as he did. "Really, Elsa?" he said, "You've been queen for less than a day and you're just throwing your clothes off everywhere—tsk, very rude, and very un-queenly behavior. You should be ashamed."

"How did you find me?" she asked, unable to stop the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. Jack hopped off the railing, looked around and spread his arms wide, gesturing to their surroundings. "You didn't think that I won't be able to see this gigantic castle made of ice now, did you? It pretty much screams 'Elsa's here!' to me." He handed her the cape and added in a whisper, "Plus, a little snowman told me where to find you. He seems nice."

Elsa laughed, her voice echoing through the halls loudly. She didn't know whether the last bit was true or not, but her thoughts were cut off when Jack pulled her into a bone-crushing bear hug, surprising her. He buried his head in the crook of her shoulder, embracing her so tightly she could barely move her arms. She breathed in the smell of his soft hair, taking in that fresh breeze and peppermint scent she secretly loved. She had never been enveloped in this kind of warmth before; it was one of the few things only she and Jack could share. Their bodies were so cold that they felt warm against each other. "I'm so glad that you're safe," he whispered, his breath raising the hairs on the back of her neck. "You had me worried."

He pulled back enough so that they met each other's eyes. His brows furrowed, his striking blue eyes searching hers. They were so close that his bangs brushed the tip of her nose. Elsa wondered if she would start to melt in his arms if he continued to look at her this way. The tension in the air made the blood rush to her face and her breathing uneven. She offered Jack a small smile, and said, "I'm sorry."

Jack chuckled, pulling away and circling around her, brushing her sheer, light blue cape out of his way with his staff, frost spreading up from the hem. Jack's frost patterns always looked different from hers—she would never admit it, but his was more beautiful to watch, the way his frost curled and tapered like frozen feathers. She would also never admit that her heart was skipping beats as it hammered against her sternum as his eyes scanned her from top to bottom, then back up. She was a trapped gazelle and he was a lion circling its prey. She felt an involuntary hitch in her breath as his fingertips grazed her bare shoulder when he reached for her hair. "Did I mention that you look absolutely _gorgeous_?" he asked, his voice a low mumble that it raised goose bumps on Elsa's arms. Her eyes widened when Jack pecked at her cheek—a quick, light one—and stepped back, that naughty smile already playing on his lips, leaning against his staff in the most childishly innocent and pure way. "You really overdid it, Your Highness. I'm going to have to call you 'snowflake' from now on."

Elsa blushed and playfully smacked Jack's shoulder. But in all honesty, she didn't really mind being called _"snowflake"_ —not if it was Jack that called her that.

He laughed, looking around. "So," he began, "we still have the entire day. What do you want to do?"

Now that he mentioned it, Elsa _didn't have_ anything to do. The reality of being totally and utterly by herself hasn't quite hit her yet. Now, she wished that she had brought something with her, like books and chocolate. She couldn't believe it herself, but she actually _missed_ Arendelle. But after what happened at her coronation, she knew she could never return. "I honestly don't know," she finally answered, bashfully looking at the floor.

Jack pressed his thin lips together, his forehead scrunched up in thought. "Well," he said, heading for the balcony doors, which opened on their own, letting the chilly winter breeze in. The wind ruffled his hair, his eyes and smile as bright as the snow outside.

He extended his hand to her and said with a wink, "I'll figure something out."

* * *

Elsa had never had this much fun since her isolation.

Before they started their day, Jack left to get food for her. He came back literally minutes later with a tall peanut butter and jelly sandwich and two bottles, one with water and the other with orange juice. Elsa munched it down and finished it in just a few bites—she didn't even realize how hungry she was until Jack brought her the food. They were sitting on the snow outside her ice palace. The image was a perfect picnic in the winter—they had her magenta cape spread out, and the food Jack brought came with a basket and a small bouquet of light blue flowers for her. "Where'd you get all of these?" she asked, taking a huge gulp of orange juice. Jack was lying on his back, his hands behind his head and his eyes closed. Elsa saw him peek at her, opening one eye slightly, then smiling widely when he answered. "I _borrowed_ it from a shop called 'Wandering Oaken's Trading Post'. Oh, and did you know they also have a sauna?"

Elsa nearly spit her drink. Her eyes widened, screaming, "YOU STOLE IT?!" She hit Jack's abdomen, causing him to jerk, throwing big fits of laughter that echoed all around.

"Of course I didn't! I would never!" he said, his mocking expression infuriating her. Elsa placed her hands on her hips, her lips pursed. He propped himself up on his elbows, and the sunlight caught his hair at a perfect angle that made it look like a bright halo framing his face. Elsa wanted to punch him so badly. "It's not like I have any money on me, snowflake. So you'll have to pay for it when you get back."

Elsa couldn't believe him; Jack was clearly enjoying himself. She stood up from their spot and walked a few feet away from him, ignoring his attempts to bring her back. What he didn't know was that Elsa had a plan in mind, and it involved a lot of snowballs. "Aww, come on, snowflake. I'm sorry, you can come back now, please," Jack cooed, standing up and walking towards her. At that exact moment, Elsa turned, her hands raised, firing about twenty small snowballs simultaneously in Jack's direction. She saw his eyes widen before he hit the deck, narrowly missing Elsa's rapid fire. She was laughing so hard that she didn't notice Jack crawling on his belly, inching his way to his staff. Once he got it, Elsa's laughter came to a halt as he fired more snowballs at her.

That snowball fight lasted only a few minutes, but it left them tired and laughing out loud, gasping for air in between laughs. It was unclear who won, but it didn't matter to either of them. After that, they headed back inside, where Jack flew directly to the top of Elsa's staircase without waiting for her. Elsa grumbled, sprinting up the stairs after him. "I challenge you to a race, fair snowflake," he declared by the time she reached the top. She was panting, clutching a stitch at her side. Her toes hurt from her heels, and her legs felt weak—she was more than certain that she was walking like a newborn fawn. She groaned, cursing him and his powers of flight under her breath. Why did she have to build this many stairs again?

"Well, obviously you already beat me," she said, struggling for breath. Jack cocked his head to the side in a pleading manner. He was giving her these strange but _cute_ puppy eyes, exaggerating his pout for extra effect. He was perched on the hook of his staff, amazing her yet again with his perfect equilibrium and poise. Elsa felt the urge to kick his staff and watch him tumble down the stairs but she thought against it. "Ugh, fine," she said finally, rolling her eyes, unable to stop herself from smiling.

"It's easy," he said, jumping off his staff and landing on the stair rail like a cat. "We just have to surf down the stairs."

"Sure—wait, what?"

"Don't tell me you're scared to lose," he taunted.

"Jack, _I'm wearing heels._ "

"Ready—"

"Jack this isn't safe—"

"Set—"

" _Jackson Overland Frost I swear—"_

"GO!"

"JACK, GET BACK HERE!"

* * *

 **Author's note: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Who do you think won the race, Jack or Elsa? Let me know cuz I'll be using that in the next chapter ;) Anyways let me know what you guys think, what you want to see in the next chapter, and most importantly, who won the race by leaving a review. See ya! :D**


	10. Chapter Nine: Jack

**Author's note: Hi guys! Sorry if I kept you waiting... here's the next chapter. As always, enjoy reading! :)**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own anything except the story line and plot of this story.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER NINE: Jack** _ **  
**_ _ **Moment of Truth**_

* * *

Jack and Elsa were happily watching the sun set on the snow-covered mountaintop, laughing as they recalled the events of their day. "I still can't believe how you managed to beat me," Jack said, pouting, "and _in heels,_ too."

"Cheaters never prosper, Jack," Elsa countered in her matter-of-factly tone.

"I did not cheat!"

"You took off with a head-start!"

"It's not my fault you're just too slow!"

It became a thing between them, fake-arguing to the point where they were practically in a heated debate. He found it cute and adorable, the way Elsa did everything just to have the last word (and he let her—sometimes). "Either way, today just made it to the top of the list of the best days I've ever had," Jack said, casting Elsa a glance with a genuine smile on his lips. She grinned back, melting his heart that he sighed and fell back on the snow spread-eagled, closing his eyes. "What are you doing?" Elsa asked, her laughs like chimes filling the early evening air.

"Snow angel!" he yelled, opening and closing his arms and legs, burrowing an outline of an angel in the powdery snow. Elsa joined him after he finished his angel, lying down beside him, their arms brushing against each other. They watched the stars pop up from behind the clouds to wink at them one by one. The moon was high and bright—it was so close to them that it was almost funny to Jack. He could simply reach out and slap the moon's face.

"What else is on your 'list'?" Elsa asked.

"Oh, there's a lot..."

Jack told her stories of the times he tried to break in the North Pole, waving his arms in gestures as he did. Their shoulders brushed as he gestured, their laughter filling the air as the northern lights danced in the heavens. "It's just so gigantic and of course I had to try to sneak in, but the Yetis wouldn't let me. I think it's because I hold the record of North's naughty list," he boasted, casting a sideways glance at Elsa with a wink. She was trying to stifle her chuckles, covering her mouth with her hand. "Wait, North as in Nicholas St. North?" she asked once she got a hold of herself. _"Santa Claus is real?"_

"Of course he's real!" Jack exclaimed. "He's one of the Big Four. They're called the Guardians of Childhood. North is one of them, so is the Sandman, the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny. They protect the children of the world…"

And he told her more about his world, how beings like them can only be seen if they were believed in, like she did in him. He could tell she was amazed—he could see that childish glint in her eyes as she listened to him, and as he spoke Jack didn't see a queen, but the child who used to look out her window every night during the winter to catch a glimpse of the Winter Spirit from her book.

"Elsa?" he asked, looking at her. Her eyes were focused on the starry sky, her fair hair swept over her shoulder. Her face was still red from all the laughing earlier. She looked at him, turning on her side. "Yes?"

The intensity of her gaze made him forget what he was about to say for a minute, derailing his train of thought. All he could focus on was the northern lights, which were reflected on her eyes. He cleared his throat and quickly regained his words. "I'm sorry I didn't make it to your coronation."

"It's fine," she whispered, looking away, lying on her back once more. She was avoiding his gaze, fiddling with her nails the way she always did when she did something wrong. "Elsa," Jack said, concern in his voice, "what happened? What's wrong?"

Elsa met his eyes before looking away again, inhaling sharply and saying, "Anna got engaged to a guy she just met, so naturally I freaked out. Then they started talking about inviting his family over, keeping the gates open, but I cut her off and walked away. I told her it just can't happen, but she held me back and took my glove. Then she kept saying things and I— _I snapped_. My powers were doing all sorts of things that I couldn't control. Then I ran to the lake and you came."

Jack felt sad for her. He knew that she did everything in her power to keep herself in check, and yet all her efforts went to waste in the most horrible way. He wished he could have been there, he could have helped, but what could he have done? And still, the bigger question remained. "You didn't see them?" he asked.

"See who?"

"The shadow monsters."

"What are you talking about?"

Jack described to her what he'd seen from the courtyard, the shadow monsters that followed her and tried to trick her. He told her that she was their target, and that they came only for her. Elsa's face went paler than normal, the color draining from her face. "I think I _felt_ them," she whispered, remembering that night. "I'm not sure, but I felt a different fear, the most terrifying kind. It made me lose my control and I—I couldn't think straight. I guess I couldn't see them because I only ever believed in one monster— _me."_

Jack frowned. Elsa was staring back up at the stars, her eyes losing their spark. "You are not a monster, Elsa," he said. "You'll get the hang of your powers. I know it. _I believe in you_." He slowly curled his fingers around her hand, and soon their fingers were interlocked, fitting perfectly like two puzzle pieces. Elsa looked at their hands, then into his eyes. Jack smiled, reaching to touch the tip of her nose with his free hand, whispering, "I'm sorry I didn't get to see you dance."

"Don't worry," she said, "I didn't."

"I've waited all year to—wait, _what?_ "

"Enough about me," she said, dismissing him. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Jack, in the three years we've been together, I've never heard you say anything about your past. I want to get to know you," she said, "I want to know who you are."

"You know who I am. I already told you earlier, the Man in the Moon put me here and he gave me my powers. He told me my name was Jack Frost and that's all I ever knew."

"Then why do I feel like you're hiding something from me? Tell me the truth, be honest with me."

Jack hesitated. His free palm felt colder than usual. She wasn't ready to know the truth, nor was he ready to tell her—he could _never_ tell her. He sat bolt upright, placing his elbows on his knees, rocking back and forth slightly. He let her hand go in the process, immediately regretting it as the cold came rushing back to his fingertips. He run his fingers angrily through his hair, his breathing shallow, locking his fingers at the base of his neck. "I can't," he said, refusing to look at her.

"Why not?" Elsa asked, sitting up as well.

"Because if you knew, you'd never look at me the same way ever again," Jack plead, desperation seeping into his tone. "And I can't have that, Elsa. Yes, it's selfish, but it's something I'm not willing to risk. _I don't want to lose you._ "

He looked into her eyes, and saw the hurt in them. He frowned and hung his head, letting his bangs fall into his eyes. Then she did something he never expected. She wrapped her around his torso, hugging him tightly from behind, her head buried in the crook of his neck. "Whatever happened in the past, is in the past," she said, reaching to cup his cheek and forcing him to meet her gaze. "And knowing you, whatever happened _wasn't your fault,_ Jack. You are the kindest, bravest and most wonderful person I know. So whatever you did, I'll accept it.

"There's a reason why I didn't dance last night," she said, "even though I promised I would. Even when dignitaries from other kingdoms presented their sons for me to dance with. It took me a while to realize why I didn't want to."

Jack stopped breathing. Elsa's hand now rested on his chest, her face just inches away from his. Her eyes were brave and sincere, staring intently at his own. "It's because of _you_ , Jack," she continued. "It was because the only person I wanted to dance with, talk with, and be with was you. You were there for me when no one else was. You taught me not to be afraid of what I am and see the beauty in the powers."

"What are you saying, Elsa?" Jack whispered. He held her hand on his chest in place, and their foreheads were touching. "Because I'm starting to get really confused here."

She laughed slightly, a faint blush filling her cheeks. "I'm trying to say how I really feel about you and you're ruining my moment," she said. "What I'm trying to say here is that _I love you,_ Jack Frost—no matter how annoying and childish you are."

He didn't know what happened next. All he knew was that his lips were glued to hers, that her fingers were combing through his hair and his hand cupping her face. He could almost see fireworks behind his closed eyes, he felt as if his soul left his body. Jack felt _hot_ —it wasn't supposed to be possible, and yet here he was. He felt the heat radiate as it rushed to Elsa's face, her lashes tickling the tops of his cheeks. His hand was on the small of her back, pushing her closer to him, pressing their bodies tightly against each other. She gasped into his mouth when his teeth grazed her lower lip. It was a brief moment, before their lips met each other again, hungrier this time. He was about to lay her down on the snow when he felt their bodies slip off the mountaintop. "Ahh!" Elsa yelped. They had unknowingly turned the mountaintop to ice, and when Jack leaned forward he sent them sliding down the mountain. Elsa was spinning out of control, laughing loudly, her foot catching on Jack's staff. He reached for it, standing up on the ice trail that they made, commanding it to curve in the end. He took off in flight, hearing Elsa gasp when she was tossed into the air after him, her cape billowing behind her. Jack flew back down quickly, catching her in his arms. "That was," he began, breathing hard, "Well, that was unexpected."

"I'm sorry," she said, blushing furiously. He chuckled and kissed her forehead. She laced her arms around his neck as he flew up to the balcony. By the time he landed, he felt Elsa's forehead rest on the side of his neck and realized that she was probably tired from the day. Jack carried her through the doors and across the chamber to one of the many rooms that Elsa had built. She had given him a tour of her palace after their staircase race, so he knew where the bedroom was—sort of, as Elsa's palace was a huge, frozen labyrinth. She was yawning while he walked, her fingers idly playing with the tips of his hair, sending sparks of electricity down his spine. When Jack finally found the bedroom, he laid her down on the soft crystalline mattress. He noticed that Elsa didn't have a blanket, and remembered that they still had her magenta cape in the snowflake-shaped chamber. Jack turned and was just about to get it for her when she reached for his hand, grabbing his wrist. "Where are you going?" she asked sleepily, her eyelids half-open.

"I'll just get your other cape because you don't have a blanket—"

" _Stay,_ " she said, "The cold never bothered _us_ anyway."

Jack smiled, obliging, slipping his arm under her head as she turned on her side. He draped his arm on her waist, pulling her closer to him until his chest was flat on her back. He brushed her hair behind her ear, lightly kissing her temple and down the side of her face. Her face was still flushed pink, a small smile playing on her lips, her eyes closed. "Good night, snowflake," he whispered in her ear, tickling her. She didn't reply, her breathing telling him that she was already asleep.

Jack hugged her tighter than he ever did that night, lips pressed against her bare shoulder, unable to sleep. _Oh God, what have I done?_ he thought. He would never be able to tell her now, the dark secret he had kept from her all these years. But she wanted him to be true, to be honest. He hoped, prayed, that she would hold on to her word when she said that she'd accept him as he was despite what he'd done. He hoped that her love for him would prevail, because he'd already decided—that tomorrow, he would finally tell her the truth.


	11. Chapter Ten: Elsa

**Author's note: Hi! First off, I was reading the previous chapter and I felt that my writing sucked—please forgive me!—but please don't stop reading I promise I'll make it up to you guys. Anyways, I finished this chapter a little too early (I post weekly updates, usually on the weekends so yeah) so here you go! Reviews, faves and follows are very much appreciated. Thank you guys so much! Enjoy :)**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own anything except the story line and plot of this story.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER TEN: Elsa  
** _ **The Nightmare King**_

* * *

The first thing Elsa noticed when she woke up was the sudden cold. Oddly enough, she didn't think it was possible for her to notice that it was freezing in her room. She grew up knowing only the cold—it enveloped her entire being, manifested itself in the surrounding air. The cold was her ever-present companion, like a shadow in the day. It haunted her, reminded her that she was different and dangerous. She was never really bothered by it, up until today, when she woke up _shivering._

A heavy material was draped over her petite body; she sat up slowly, realizing that it was her magenta cape, which fell off her shoulders. She felt empty, as if a part of her was missing. She frowned, looking around. "Jack?" she called, her own voice bouncing off the walls of her room back to her. She missed the familiar warmth of his body next to hers; she expected him to be beside her when she awoke. She yawned and rubbed her eyes. She was still in her ice palace, but Jack was nowhere to be seen. She ran a hand through her hair, down her neck, and on her right shoulder—on the very spot where Jack pressed his lips against while she slept.

She didn't know what made her do it, but confessing her feelings for Jack last night lifted a huge weight off of her chest. She wanted him to trust her as much as she trusted him. She wanted to let him know that she was there for him, no matter what happens. She wanted him to know that she loved him, that she had been loving him for so long now—and that deep down, she felt that he loved her, too. She sighed, stretching her arms wide before she got up from her bed. As she did, she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Elsa looked down to see that a snowflake the size of her hand fell from the bed, landing near her feet. On the snowflake was a note—written illegibly so. She picked the snowflake up, and slightly struggled to read it:

 _G'morning, snowflake. Just went out to get food. Don't worry, I'll be back right away._

 _P.S. I'll try to pay for it this time. I promise._

 _P.P.S. I love you._

Elsa couldn't help but smile. She placed the snowflake note on her pillow and headed for the balcony. Her heels clacked against the icy floor as she crossed her chandelier chamber. She was just about to open the doors to her balcony when she heard a faint noise—like a pin drop—echo from the main atrium below. "Jack?" she called again. No answer. She smirked. "If you think you can jump at me, you're wrong," she said. She felt silly talking aloud; there was a weird tingling in her veins that made the hairs on the back of her neck rise in anticipation. A sensation that pumped adrenaline in her blood, causing her heart to pound against her sternum like a drum. It was a feeling she knew all too well—it was _fear_.

She slowly walked down the stairs, her eyes wary, her heart thumping madly against her chest. She wished that it was indeed Jack who made the noise and nothing, or _no one_ else. When she reached the bottom, where her frozen fountain stood undisturbed, she noticed that one of the doors stood ajar. "Jack, this is _not_ funny," she grumbled, trying to steady her voice. Blood pounded in her ears as she peeked through the partially open door. The snow outside was blinding; it was almost as if they gave out their own glow. There were no tread marks on the snowbanks, which calmed Elsa a little. She dismissed her thoughts, closing the door shut just as a voice reverberated throughout her entire palace. " _My queen_ ," it said, frightening Elsa. She couldn't pinpoint where it came from; it seemed to come from _everywhere_ all at once.

"Who's there?" she yelled, unable to stop her voice from cracking a little in the end. She was shaking like a leaf, her hands clutched to her chest tightly. Her knees trembled, and she was afraid she would fall as she walked to her fountain, gripping the edges hard for support. A memory resurfaced, and she felt as though she was back in Arendelle, standing on the edge of the fjord. _Shadow monsters,_ Jack had said, and upon recalling, Elsa's eyes darted to the shadows in the gloom that seemed to move on their own.

"Don't you know who I am?" it teased, it's voice deep and dark and mysterious. It was the kind of voice that burrowed deep into her soul, the kind that made her want to curl up into a ball on the floor. "I who lived in the dark with you, locked away like an animal in a cage? I who saw your darkest fears, knew your darkest desires? I who hid in the shadows of your bedroom?"

The voice multiplied, speaking as if a crowd was in the room with her, thousands of voices repeating their words over and over. She put her hands over her ears, closing her eyes tight, trying to steady the beating of her heart. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" she cried, running for the doors, ice shards protruding from the ground on which she stepped. Her cape and dress got caught on the shards, ripping the crystalline ice fabric to shreds as she forcefully pulled it free. She pulled the doors open, running outside hastily, the snow solidifying under her feet to help her run faster. She picked up what remained of her skirt as she ran, but she stopped, pausing at the steps of the stairs that served as a bridge over a deep chasm—for halfway down the stairs stood a tall man with ashy gray skin. His face was chiseled and angular, his hair spiked, slicked back. His long, black robe seemed to be made of smoke, hazy around the edges and more solid on his body. His fingers, which were long and spindly, were clasped in front of him in a leisurely manner, almost as if he was expecting her. Elsa stared into his eyes—eyes that had their own iridescent glow, which reminded Elsa of a lunar eclipse.

"Elsa," the stranger said, bowing before her. "At last, we meet."

"Who are you? How did you find me?" she said, clenching and unclenching her fists in an effort to steel herself. She backed away from the stairs as the stranger _glided_ up, his robe never shifting to show the movement of his legs. Elsa was both mesmerized and frightened by this man's grace, which reminded her so much of a lion stalking its prey. "It didn't take long for my Fearlings to sniff you out," he said, "The smell of your fear is incredibly intoxicating. It drives them _mad_." He reached the top of the stairs, only a few feet away from her. Elsa swallowed the lump in her throat, her mouth suddenly turning dry. "My name, Your Highness, is Pitch, the Nightmare King."

"What do you want from me, _Pitch_?" she asked, acid dripping from her voice when she said his name. The sky above her darkened slightly as clouds began to form. Her initial reaction would have been to calm herself and stop her powers—now, however, she prayed that she had enough control over her powers so that she could defend herself if her conversation with the Nightmare King comes to a fight.

Pitch made a clicking sound with his tongue, waving his point finger at her. "The darkness only riles them up more," he taunted, extending his arm to gesture at the things emerging from the chasm. Elsa's heart dropped. There were at least twenty of them, Pitch's _Fearlings_ , clawing their way out of the ravine. At first they seemed only like shadows. But as they stood, literally tearing themselves from the ground, they turned into smoke-like humanoid creatures with long arms and fingers. Their eyes were hollow and glowing, their mouths twisted into a ghastly sneer. Though their eyes were nothing but empty sockets, she could feel their hungry grazes trained on her.

"Stay away from me!" she cried, raising her hands, shards of ice popping up from the ground in a protective ring around her. Pitch smiled, baring his stained and pointed teeth. Then Pitch's Fearlings dissolved into shadows, all lunging at her, circling around her like a hurricane. Pitch disappeared into the dark, yet his glowing eyes remained. Elsa covered her face, squinting and looking for a way out. And the scene around Elsa melted away, bringing her back to the ballroom at her coronation fiasco. She saw the faces of the crowd, their eyes wide with fright. She saw Anna backing away from her, her sister's face pale with fear. "See what you do to them, Elsa? You're a monster to them, the source of their fear. And I know," Pitch whispered in her ear, his hands light on her shoulders, "that you only wish to understand _why_ you are who you are—a monster, born of ice and snow."

"I'm not a monster!" she cried.

"Really? Then let me take you back, and help you _remember_."

She cringed away from him, stepping back so suddenly that she tripped over her gown. The scene dissolved before she hit the ground, the crowd and warm light disappearing, taking her back to that fateful night thirteen years ago. She saw eight-year-old Elsa once more, accidentally shooting Anna with her ice powers, their tiny voices echoing in her head. "Anna! Mama, Papa!" she had cried, clutching her sister's tiny body to her chest. She saw the entire ballroom freeze over, just as Pitch's voice started whispering again. "If you weren't born with powers, none of this would ever happen."

"It was an accident! I didn't mean to!" Elsa said, tears threatening to spill, burning the back of her throat.

"You could have lived a normal life, together with your sister. But you didn't. You blamed yourself for what happened, but do you know who's really to blame, for what you've become?" Pitch appeared in front of her, his eyes glowing like a cat's. "Because I do. Let me show you."

And the scene changed once more. The Fearlings swirled around her and through her, throwing her off balance, causing her to fall to her knees on the cold ground. She covered her face with her hands, and all of a sudden the Fearlings disappeared. She was on a mountaintop, apparently alone, with the wind howling loudly in her ear. It was dark, and the sky was covered by thick clouds that swirled overhead. Across her was Arendelle, sizable waves on the fjord crashing on the lake's edge. On the balcony, she could almost make out a female figure, standing outside with her dark hair flowing freely with the wind. Snow had begun to fall, just as strikes of white blue light blasted past Elsa, narrowly missing her. Her initial thought was that it was lightning—but when she turned, she froze, her mouth gaping open in shock.

Amidst the freak storm overhead, with snow swirling around him, was Jack Frost, his blinding white hair wildly ruffling in the wind. She stood in front of him, calling out his name, but he didn't seem to hear her. "Is this what you put me here to do?" he yelled. Elsa looked behind her to see the Moon peeking through the clouds overhead. Jack had mentioned that it was the Man in the Moon that had given him his powers, that he was the one that brought him back. But he never mentioned this—that he had been to Arendelle long before meeting her, or that he caused such a bizarre storm. "Is this what I was made for? Destruction? One hundred years of trying to understand why and all you do is stay silent and watch me fail! One hundred years and still, no one ever sees me! Why would you condemn me with this kind of punishment? WHY?"

It pierced her heart as Jack lashed out at the Moon, his cries and pleas that of a child's. She had never seen this side of him, the one who felt so lost and so lonely. "Oh, Jack," she whispered. Jack staff was glowing brightly, his thin body levitating a few feet off the ground. She had also never seen Jack's power on full display before—and she thought that _she_ was powerful. Sparks of ice and frost enveloped him in a sphere of pure energy, snow churning faster around him. The clouds grew ever thicker, the wind ever stronger. Elsa was shivering—the sudden decrease in temperature caught her by surprise. She was still trying to decipher what Pitch meant and why he brought her here, just as Jack's rage took the better of him. With a scream and a wave of his staff, the sphere erupted, sending bolts of ice everywhere. Elsa turned and saw that the bolts reached across the lake to the palace—where the figure was still standing on the balcony outside.

Jack saw her too, and was shocked when he saw her collapse to the ground when the ice hit her. The snowflakes around them paused, hanging still in mid-air. The clouds disappeared as quickly as they had formed, revealing the night sky. Jack's face was a mask of horror—he had tears in his eyes, and he didn't wipe them away, suddenly shooting through the air like a bullet, heading straight for the balcony. Elsa was somehow able to follow him, and her heart sank in horror when she realized that the figure was her mother, Queen Iduna. They both watched as her father, King Agnarr, came rushing to her, holding her in his arms, shaking her frail figure, trying to wake her up. They watched as her father carried her away, closing the doors behind him. "No, no, no, no," Jack whispered, perched on the balcony's edge with his head in his hands. His head perked up when he heard the sound of hooves on the cobblestones below. It was the King, with his wife in his arms, riding his steed through the gates of the palace and out into the forest beyond. Jack took off once more, following pursuit, taking Elsa with him.

They were headed for the Valley of the Living Rock, Elsa realized. "Please! Anyone, please! Help my wife!" King Agnarr cried. The trolls appeared one by one, disguised as round rocks that rolled to the King's feet. One rock, slightly bigger than the rest, rolled nearer, and Elsa saw that it was Pabbie, the trolls' wise elder. "Please," the King plead, "help her." He set the Queen down on the ground, and Elsa noticed that her mother's belly was swollen and huge; it appeared as though she was a few weeks away from giving birth. Pabbie held a hand to her mother's forehead, closing his eyes in concentration. Jack stood behind her parents, not caring about the trolls that surrounded him; he knew that he couldn't be seen. His forehead creased with worry, his grip on his staff tightening nervously, his free hand tugging at the collar of his shirt as if it were choking him. A few moments later, Queen Iduna's eyes fluttered open. "Oh, Iduna," the King said, hugging his wife dearly, kissing her forehead.

Jack let out a sigh of relief, running his hand through his white locks. He brushed the snow off of his overcoat, a nervous smile on his lips, and was about to leave when Pabbie spoke and said, "I'm glad your wife is safe. But I am afraid I cannot do anything for the child." Pabbie's brows furrowed, his eyes forlorn. Jack turned around, confusion wiping his smile away. Iduna looked at Pabbie, then at Agnarr, and lastly, at her belly, fear traced on her face. "What happened to my baby?" she asked, her voice shaking, her hands protectively wrapped around her stomach.

"She is alive and well—however, this _phenomenon_ , I have never seen anything like it before. It seems that when you were hit by the cold, it manifested itself in the child you are carrying. I fear that she may be _different_."

"Different?" the King asked. "How?"

Pabbie sighed. "I fear that she will grow with powers over ice and snow."

Elsa felt cold all over. She looked at her parents, then at Jack, her mind racing, unable to grasp what Pitch showed her. _No,_ she thought. _Jack... you couldn't have..._ "Oh, but he _has_ ," Pitch said, his taunting voice ringing in her ears. She didn't even care anymore. She felt numb, her breathing shallow, her cheeks wet with fresh tears. She heard someone scream her name, but it was faint and it sounded as if it was from somewhere far away. Then everything faded to black.


	12. Chapter Eleven: Jack

**Author's note: Hi! So, since I posted a chapter early, and I've been wanting to write this chapter down, and I don't want you guys to wait long for the next update, here's Chapter 11. Hope you enjoy :) As usual, reviews are more than welcome, and faves/follows are deeply appreciated. Thanks for continuing to read my story guys! :")**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own anything except the story line and plot of this story.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER ELEVEN: Jack  
** _ **Cold Descent**_

* * *

"Elsa!" Jack yelled. He had just gotten back from picking up food from Wandering Oaken's Trading Post and Sauna, which he paid for by leaving behind a small ice statuette of the Arendelle castle. It wasn't his best work, but he had hoped that it would still be worth a fortune—and it should, as he spent the entire morning trying to get the tiniest details right. He inadvertently dropped the food on the palace balcony along with his overcoat, which he had taken off upon landing, when he saw Elsa standing on the ravine's edge, her beautiful blue gown in tatters. Behind her was a man he knew all too well from the stories he heard; it was Pitch, the Boogeyman, a long since defeated enemy of the Guardians—along with twenty or so shadow monsters. He didn't understand why they were there, and what they wanted with Elsa. He shouted her name to get her attention, but she didn't seem to hear him.

But the shadow monsters did.

Pitch pointed at Jack, his silvery eyes glinting maliciously, and the monsters took off in his direction, evaporating from solid figures to their ghostly appearances. Elsa was still teetering over the gorge's edge as if in trance while Pitch seemed to be speaking to her. Whatever he was saying, Jack saw that it made Elsa take another step closer to the gorge.

He dove, leaving behind the food and his overcoat, his staff at the ready. He blasted the monsters out of the air; one touch of his staff causing them to solidify to ice and crash back to the earth. He got distracted however, when he saw Elsa take yet another step—a shadow monster slammed right into him, ramming him against the ice palace's wall. He hit his head hard, his vision blurring for a few brief seconds. When his vision cleared, he raised is staff just in time as another monster came right at him, its long fingers ready to grab him, freezing it instantly.

Snow fell from the edge as Elsa stepped closer to it—she was about to fall forward. Jack pushed off the wall with all his might, shooting like a bullet through the air, too fast for the monsters to catch him. But Pitch saw him, and from the shadows on the ground, he conjured a large scythe made of shiny black metal that Jack didn't recognize. He swung it at Jack, the scythe long enough to reach him that he had to hit the deck into the snow. He rolled out of the way just as Pitch came bearing down on him, slamming his scythe down so hard that the ground shook. The force of the swing startled Elsa, breaking her from her reverie, causing her to lose her balance. She yelped as she slipped and fell, but Jack caught her by the waist with the hook of his staff just in a nick of time. He pulled her up, both of them tumbling to the ground away from the edge. Jack stood quickly, swinging his staff around at Pitch. He simply deflected Jack's blasts with his scythe; for a large weapon, it seemed as light as his wooden staff, as Pitch flung it around effortlessly. "I thought Boogeymen stayed under beds," Jack snarled angrily, aiming his staff at him and the remaining monsters that surrounded them.

" _Do not call me that_ ," the Boogeyman hissed, "I will not be called _that_ condescending name given to me by _children._ "

Jack scoffed. One of the shadow monsters growled at him, but Pitch held it off, raising a hand in restraint. "You have no business here," Jack said, "or have you just come to pine over how the Guardians kicked your ass?"

"Watch your mouth, _Frost_ ," Pitch warned, a menacing grin tugging at the corners of his lips, "You ruined my plans the last time you faced my Fearlings, but I suppose I should still thank you."

"Oh, yeah? For what? Killing your precious _Fearlings_?"

The Boogeyman chuckled maliciously. "No, you daft boy," he said, "for _her."_

Jack didn't understand what he meant, and he didn't get the chance to ask. Pitch and his Fearlings turned into shadows, crawling on the snow beneath his feet and into the depths of the gorge. Jack followed suit, diving a few feet down after them. His staff gave off an ominous blue glow as he shot blasts of ice, aiming for nothing in particular, just the darkness below him. When he was satisfied and sure that not a Fearling was in sight (which was hard to discern in the darkness), he flew back up; he felt his forehead crease with worry for Elsa when she was nowhere to be seen.

"Elsa?" he called, looking around. The sky above was still dark and steely gray, snow dust falling gently from the clouds. But Jack didn't stop to marvel. He flew through the doors, forcing them open, hovering above Elsa's frozen fountain. "Elsa, where are you?" he bellowed, spinning in a circle and still not finding her. He shot up the stairs, practically leaping off the walls and railings in his haste. He reached the chandelier chamber, zooming past it so quickly that he nearly overlooked her; she was sitting on the floor, clutching at her heart, her head down. "Elsa," he said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thank God you're alright. I swear, if that _Boogeyman_ comes back I'll—"

"Tell me it isn't true," she whispered. Though her voice was small, it echoed in the chamber, cutting through Jack's heart like a blade. Jack froze on the spot, his feet suddenly rooted on the ground mid-step. She looked up at him, her eyes swollen and her tearstained face slightly flushed red. Jack paused. "What are you talking about?" he asked quietly. His chest felt tight, his breathing shallow. His hearted pounded in anticipation. His gut told him that he already knew what she meant; he felt his staff vibrate in his grip.

"Who gave me my powers, Jack?" she demanded, her voice rising. She stood up, her bloodshot eyes staring daggers at him. The sky outside darkened; it looked as if it was already nighttime. The walls of her ice castle began to change in color—from deep, ocean blue to bright, blinding amber. Jack was at a loss for words. Of course he knew the answer to her question, but he couldn't find the strength to speak. His muscles felt weak, and though Elsa was a few feet away from him, he felt the tension in the air radiating from her. "Answer me!" she yelled at him.

He flinched, dropping his gaze—which only confirmed what Elsa already knew.

She broke down and sobbed, running her hands through her braid, clutching the sides of her head like a mad woman. She turned her back to him. "All this time..." she gasped in between sobs, "... I-I thought P-Pitch was lying. I didn't believe him when he showed me..."

"What did he show you?" he asked. Elsa didn't answer; she continued to sob, drowning out his voice. "Elsa, _what_ did he show you?"

"EVERYTHING!"

She shot at him, raising sharp ice shards from the ground with a wave of her hand. Jack flew up to avoid the icy stalagmites, their pointed tips tickling his foot. "HE SHOWED ME WHAT HAPPENED! HE SHOWED ME WHAT YOU'VE DONE! _HE SHOWED ME EVERYTHING!_ " Elsa growled. Her eyes narrowed, her dark gaze following him as he wove in and out of the air, narrowly avoiding the ice spikes she conjured.

"I was going to tell you—" he began, only to dive back down as another shard sprouted, this time from the wall, shooting past his ear. "—I can explain—"

"ALL THIS TIME, YOU KEPT THE TRUTH FROM ME!" she bellowed, her jabs getting faster now, sending pointed ice as thin as needles like arrows at him. She had good aim; he flew up, down, and around, missing each icicle only by a hair. "YOU MADE ME _FALL IN LOVE_ WITH YOU SO IT WOULD EASE YOUR CONSCIENCE, DIDN'T YOU?"

"No, Elsa!" he said, pleading, deflecting an icicle with a wave of his staff. He landed on the ground in front of her, his arms extended in a cautious manner. His staff was glowing, the energy contained within pulsing under his fingertips. "What I feel for you is _real_ —"

"LIES!"

Elsa threw her hands up, and a column of sharp ice shot up from the chamber floor, aimed right for his heart. Jack's eyes widened; upon instinct, he gripped his staff hard with both hands and slammed it in front of him. The column Elsa created parted at his staff like the Red Sea with a mighty bang that reverberated off the walls, shaking the entire castle and the chandelier above. The force pushed Jack backward, his knees braced against the impact. The chamber was filled with bright white light and bluish white powder that drizzled over them. When the dust cleared, he saw Elsa getting up from the ground; it seemed as though she, too, was thrown back by the blast. The glow of his staff dimmed like a dying ember until it faded away. Jack saw that the ice column was entirely split in two, its spikes pointing outward on the sides instead of their original direction. There was a large crack on the center of the snowflake design on the floor from the tip of Jack's staff to Elsa's toes. Jack swallowed, walking slowly to Elsa. He made a move to help her get up, but she waved his hand away weakly. "I _trusted_ you," she whispered.

"Trust me now, _please—_ "

"Why should I?" she snapped. Tears fell from her eyes and onto her lap.

"You said that you would accept me, _all of me_ , regardless of my past," he snapped back. She finally looked at him, her defeated blue eyes boring into his soul that he almost felt guilty for raising his voice. He sighed and shook his head, running his hand through his hair exasperatedly, taking deep and calming breaths. "You don't know how many times I wanted to tell you, Elsa—I tried so damn hard. I was supposed to tell you today because you deserved to know the truth before you decide if you still loved me. But I was scared—I was scared of losing you because I love you and I'm _that_ selfish."

She was silent, tears slipping out of the corners of her eyes with her consent. "Whatever Pitch showed you is just his way of manipulating you, Elsa. Please, believe _me_ —"

"That's all everyone ever does to me!" she yelled, standing up and walking away from him to her balcony. He followed her, watching her pace and throw her arms around angrily as she spoke. "You, Pitch... you're all the same. I thought you were different. When we first met, I thought, finally, someone who understands me, someone who's not afraid of me."

"But I do understand—"

"No, you don't!"

He grabbed her by the arms, turning her to face him and forcing her to look at him. They were so close that he felt her breath all over his face, spreading heat throughout his entire being. They were so close that he saw the lighter blue specks in the pattern of her eyes that was entirely unique from his own. "Elsa, I've been on my own for a hundred years. I know what it's like to be alone. And not a day goes by that I don't regret what I've done to you, that the guilt doesn't swallow me whole whenever you blamed the powers I didn't mean to give you," he said, his voice quieting down to barely a whisper in the end. Her breathing hitched and she was still, her fists balled tightly at her sides, her pulse quickening. He could kiss her right now, but he stopped himself. Jack inhaled deeply, breathing in her lovely scent, and with all the sincerity that he could muster, he said, pleadingly, begging, "If it still means anything now, I am truly, very, _deeply_ sorry."

Elsa looked into his eyes as he looked into hers. He longed to caress her face and wipe that stray tear from her cheek; just as he was about to, Elsa stepped away from him, shrugging his grip off of her shoulders. He was frozen in place, his mouth slightly parted, watching her back away from him. She hugged herself, wiping that tear with the back of her hand, her eyes on the floor.

" _Leave_ ," she said.

She wouldn't meet his eyes. Jack's heart felt like it froze over and shattered into a million tiny pieces. His vision blurred, and for the first time, he felt out of balance, like the world around him was shifting rapidly. He was lightheaded, and he was panting and having difficulty to catch his breath. His chest felt constricted, his entire being hurting to the core. He wanted to collapse right now. "What?" he asked. He had to make sure he heard her right, otherwise he won't accept it.

"I said," Elsa repeated, "leave." She was struggling to get her words across; it was almost as if her body rejected saying the word, and that she had to physically fight to get herself to say it twice. He felt that she didn't want him to leave—he _knew_ that she didn't want this. But as she turned and walked back inside, with the doors closing silently behind her, what remained of that hopeful spark in Jack's heart was extinguished. He was surprised as a few silent tears cascaded down his cheeks, turning to frozen droplets before hitting the floor. Shocked with the hurt and ache in his chest, Jack took off in despair, not knowing where he was going, noticing how the sky cleared gradually, and how the snowflakes falling from the flurries above his head hung in the air as if time stopped and ceased its ticking.


	13. Chapter Twelve: Jack

**Author's note: Hi guys! Let me start off by apologizing for the suuuppppeeeerrrr late update :( I had a really rough and busy week and I didn't get to post anything, again really sorry for that :( Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks for sticking with me even though I posted this one late hehehe :D As always, leave a review below and tell me what you think, faves and follows are appreciated. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own anything except the story line and plot of this story.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWELVE: Jack  
** _ **When The Darkness Comes**_

* * *

One day.

Jack had been drifting around aimlessly for one day.

He was uncharacteristically quiet and placid, lying with his back on his staff as he let the wind take him where it wanted to go—which was always back to the North Mountain, to the crystalline castle that dominated it. He would stop himself before he got too close, force himself to turn the other way and start wandering again, but the wind would always bring him back there, almost as if it didn't want him to leave, too. But he knew that he should—it's what she wanted, and if it made her happy, he would be okay with it, somehow.

Deep down, he knew that it wasn't what she really wanted—he could tell. Jack could feel the sadness in the air that drew him back to her, feel the pressure on his chest as he neared the ice palace. He yearned to hold her close, as he did many times before, and run his fingers through her hair or lightly plant a kiss on her forehead, and tell her that everything will be alright. His heart ached knowing that she would never confine in him again, especially since he was also the source of her troubles.

Jack sighed, his breath a puff of snowflakes and mist that dissipated as quickly as it formed. He had never felt this _numb_ in his entire life; it was as if he was robbed of all his senses. His mind was blank, and every movement he made was half-hearted. Even the things he used to find joy in didn't help improve his state. He wanted— _needed_ —to know that Elsa was alright.

He couldn't focus on anything other than the last image he had of her, which was burned into his mind's eye; her eyes, teary and swollen, her dress ripped to shreds, her head bowed in dismay, her cheeks flushed light pink. _Leave_ , she had said, the sound of her voice still echoing in his hollow skull, so hurt, so _tired._ He shook his head, ridding it of his own thoughts. Night had fallen quietly, and the stars replaced the sun that watched him float adrift in the wind. Jack also couldn't keep track of the time that passed him by; sometimes hours passed in a blink of an eye, other times the seconds dragged on slowly. Tonight was one of the times where he barely remembered that the entire night had slipped by, and that the wee hours of the morning were nearly upon him.

He inhaled sharply, letting out a slow breath—when all of a sudden hands grabbed his torso from below, sharp claws digging into his ribs. He yelped, unable to move or reach for his staff, as the hands that crushed him pulled him to the earth at such velocity it made his head spin. He flailed about, kicking his legs, grunting and wriggling like a worm when his back hit the ground hard, the impact crushing the air out of his lungs. He saw black spots in his vision, which worsened when he shook his head to clear it. The claws didn't release him; out of the corner of his eye, he saw his staff fall and skid a few feet away on his right. In front of him materialized a Fearling, bigger than the ones he saw before, crouched like an animal over him, its long claws on his arms, pinning them to the ground. Its mouth was twisted in a menacing growl, its eyes glowing like embers. "Easy there, girl," Pitch quipped, appearing beside the Fearling. Jack's jaw clenched, his brows furrowing in anger. "We wouldn't like to wake up our guests, now do we?" he added. The Fearling seemed to laugh and smirk.

Jack was confused at what Pitch meant when he gestured to the group of sleeping men beside them. Their fire was small and barely giving any light, let alone any warmth. The men were curled up in thick blankets, fast asleep, with spears and swords laid out beside them. Jack recognized them as guards from Arendelle from the crocus insignias on their dark green uniforms—he quickly saw that two of the guards weren't from Arendelle, and instead of swords they had crossbows. They were probably sent out to look for Elsa, Jack thought, but he didn't know why they came all this way just to look for her; maybe Anna sent them. Among them was a red-haired man that was familiar to Jack, but he didn't remember where he saw him before.

From the ground beside the men rose Fearlings; they leaned in, few cocking their heads to the side as if in curiosity. Then one by one, the Fearlings turned into smoke, hazy black clouds that hovered above the men's heads. In each cloud, a different scenario played. Pitch walked among them, quenching the already dying fire with a _swoosh_ of his long cape. He first viewed the non-Arendelle guards' clouds, scratching his chin in thought. "The duke shall send his regards indeed," Pitch said to himself. He then took interest in the redhead's cloud, watching its contents intently, his silvery gold eyes glinting in the dark. "What are you doing?" Jack asked. He was determined to break free from the Fearling, but he needed to know Pitch's plans first. Besides, if he so much as inhaled deeply, the Fearling would rip him apart and tear him to shreds like a chew-toy.

"I always know what people's greatest fears are, Jack," he said, not breaking his gaze from the dark cloud. The scenes that played in it were blurred and appeared only in bright flashes like lightning, which only Pitch seemed to be able to decipher. "A plus is also knowing their deepest, darkest desires. Take for example this man," he said, finally turning around, clasping his hands behind his back, "Thirteenth in line to the throne of his own kingdom, bullied and abused by his family—now plotting against Arendelle to gain power. Smart one, seeking his place elsewhere knowing that he will never have the chance to rise as king in his own country."

That's where it hit Jack. _"Prince Hans?"_ he said in disbelief. He caught a glimpse of the prince running past the crowd in the courtyard the night of Elsa's coronation. He saw him by the fjord with Anna when Elsa ran off across the lake. He seemed like a nice person at the time, almost as concerned for Elsa as Anna was. But if Pitch was telling the truth—that Hans wanted to take Arendelle for himself— then Elsa was in danger and he had to warn her.

Pitch smiled his evil smile, showing his pointed teeth. Then one by one the Fearling clouds _entered_ the bodies of the men, turning into swirling clouds with the tips of their tails aimed at the men's hearts. The men awoke with a collective gasp, clawing at their chests wildly as if they woke up from a nightmare. "What did you do to them?" Jack yelled, causing the Fearling to clamp down on him harder, its teeth elongating to sharp fangs that were inches away from his face. "Me?" Pitch answered, chuckling, "I barely did anything—just fueled their drive to save their beloved kingdom."

The sun was about to rise, and one by one the men rose too, although they seemed a bit confused at what happened to them. "We push on, men. The North Mountain is still a day's walk ahead of us," said Hans, gathering his blanket and sword, and mounting his horse. The others followed suit, and were well on their way as dawn broke. Shadows from the trees allowed Pitch and his Fearling to remain, but not for long. _"Long live the queen,"_ Pitch said, nodding at the Fearling and disappearing into the shadows with a smirk on his lips. The Fearling growled, its teeth bared, ready to snap Jack's neck. Jack's heart drummed loudly in his chest, his pulse throbbing in his ears. He needed to escape, and quick—he had to get to Elsa. He thrashed about, but his arms were pinned and he couldn't reach his staff. He placed his foot on the Fearling's torso and kicked out with all his might, throwing the creature off of him. But the Fearling quickly regained its stance, charging like a bull at Jack. He turned and ran for his staff, not daring to look behind him. He reached for it just in time; he turned, his staff pointed and at the ready, just as the Fearling lunged at him, its ghoulish cries piercing the air as it turned to solid ice. Jack swung his staff once more, shattering the Fearling icicle.

He looked up, adrenaline coursing through his veins, to the top of the North Mountain, where swirling gray clouds began to form.

" _Elsa."_

* * *

Jack flew as fast as he could to the mountain, bending the wind to his will, pushing him faster and faster. He only now realized how far he had gotten from the mountain when Pitch intercepted him; it took him almost the entire day to get there, and it wouldn't be long before Hans and his men reached her, too.

He slowed down when the ice palace came into view, which from inside glowed an ominous deep violet. He stopped to catch his breath at the foot of the stairs that led to the entrance, where a huge pile of snow sat. Jack was about to rest against the snow when _it_ turned, nearly crushing Jack with its huge hands. _It_ turned out to be a huge snowman, its fingertips made of solid ice that were pointed like claws. He barely escaped its grasp, rolling to the side quickly and dodging its hand. "Easy there, big guy," he said, putting his hands up cautiously. "I just want to talk to Elsa—"

" _She said leave her alone,"_ the Snowman said. Jack rolled his eyes, replying, "That's what she always says. Who are you?"

" _Marshmallow. The Queen created me."_

"She... she _made_ you?" Jack said, raising an eyebrow. Marshmallow nodded. He was then aware that Marshmallow can see him, and that the gigantic snowman wasn't speaking at all, only grunting and groaning, yet he could still understand him. Jack cleared his throat and continued, "Well, Marshmallow, we don't have much time. It's getting dark soon, and some people are coming after Elsa. Get ready to fight. We have to protect her."

Marshmallow turned, looking up at the top of the stairs. Jack looked too—and instantly regretted it. Elsa stood there, slowly walking down the steps, stopping only when Jack's eyes met hers. Her dress was repaired, her eyes less puffy, her ivory skin giving off its own glow. Strands of platinum blond hair fell framing her face, her blue eyes as piercing as always. "I thought I told you to leave," she said simply, her voice irritated yet her face void of emotion. She started to turn around, and Jack had to leap three steps at a time to reach her. He grabbed her arm, and he was met once again with her eyes; it took all of Jack's willpower not to look away. "Elsa, you're in danger. Pitch is still after you, and there are men on their way here—"

"How do I know that you're not lying to me?" she scoffed, her eyes hard and narrowed in anger.

"Elsa, please, I know that you'll never forgive me but I came back to protect you—"

"I don't need you. I can handle myself—"

" _Intruders, milady,"_ Marshmallow said. Jack saw the men from afar, with Prince Hans in the lead, his hair as red as the sky. Marshmallow had resumed his position and his disguise as a pile of snow, ready to take the group by surprise. "Get inside," Jack said. "We'll take it from here."

"I said I don't need your help—"

Jack grabbed her by the shoulders, his voice dead serious, "I won't stand aside and let them take you, Elsa. I know that you told me to stay away and I could, but I won't, because I still love you, no matter how much you seem hate me." Without thinking, he leaned in to kiss her, warmth spreading from his lips to the rest of his body. It was a quick peck; he pulled away to see her stunned face, her cheeks tinted peek and her big blue eyes wide with surprise. "Now go!" he said, his signature smirk playing on his lips. He flew down beside Marshmallow, his staff aimed and ready, his overcoat catching the wind. Hans and his group neared, and behind them lurked more than a dozen Fearlings. "You take the men," Jack said to Marshmallow. "I'll deal with the Fearlings."

Hans dismounted his horse, ordering the men not to harm Elsa. Jack saw the non-Arendelle guards, who wore rich red suits, look at each other with an evil glint in their eyes. Pitch appeared behind them, grinning wickedly at Jack. Jack scowled at him.

"Now!"

Marshmallow turned, frightening Hans, growing to his full height and waving the guards off. Jack swung his staff beside him, aiming for the Fearlings, freezing them one by one. He was careful not to blast the men, so he pushed the Fearlings back and away from the group. He was momentarily distracted when Marshmallow growled loudly, icicle spikes protruding from his back, his teeth and nails elongating. Behind Marshmallow, the men in red managed to slip past him and were running up the stairs. He was just about to fly and stop them when a Fearling lunged at him, knocking him to the ground from the side. He put his staff in front of him as the Fearling tried to attack him, gnashing its long and pointed teeth like a rabid dog. Jack threw the Fearling off to the side with all his strength before blasting it with his staff, freezing it mid-lunge. Marshmallow bellowed loudly; Hans had cut of his leg with his sword, causing Marshmallow to lose balance and fall into the ravine. "No!" Jack cried, flying to his aid, but he was too late—Marshmallow had already fallen, but not without nearly destroying the staircase, throwing Hans off the railing. The guards ran to help him up, just as the sound of shattered glass sounded from the balcony. Jack saw that one of the men in red was pushing desperately against a block of ice that was threatening to push him off the balcony. "Elsa!" Jack yelled. He flew up to the balcony, almost the same time as Hans and the remaining men reached her in the chandelier chamber. Jack saw that the walls were glowing amber, and that the other man in red was stuck to the wall with an icicle as thin as a needle growing dangerously close to the vein in his neck. "Queen Elsa!" Hans shouted, holding the men back, "Don't be the monster they fear you are!"

Elsa froze. Jack squinted at the looming figure behind Hans; his eyes widened. "Elsa, it's a trick!" he yelled. "It's Pitch!" But in the time of Elsa's hesitation, the man on the wall had lifted up his crossbow, aiming it at her. Pitch saw, and whispered something in Han's ear. Hans ran to the man just before he fired, redirecting the crossbow to the chandelier—which hung directly above Elsa. "Elsa, run!" Jack cried. She saw Pitch and his evil smile, and gasped as the arrow severed the crystal that supported the chandelier. Before she could run, before Jack could even move, two Fearlings grabbed hold of his arms while a third took his staff. The third Fearling threw his staff in the crevasse, which glowed blue in the darkness as it plummeted. He screamed and flailed, kicking at the Fearling as they dragged him away from Elsa, and he yelped when they unceremoniously dropped him into the gorge, and with no staff to help him stop his fall, he closed his eyes as the darkness engulfed him completely.


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Jack, Elsa

**Author's note: Hope this means I'm forgiven for missing out on the late updates :D Also... I wrote another story! Show your support by checking it out now! It's a Teen Titans fic "I Know I'm A Wolf" (it's a song by Young Heretics) starring Red X, Starfire and Robin. Please be kind guys and leave a review there hehehehe :)**

 **Anyways, enjoy reading this chapter and don't forget to leave a review/fave/follow. Thanks guys and Happy Holidays to you all! :D**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own anything except the story line and plot of this story.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Jack  
** _ **Remember Me**_

* * *

" _Everything!"_

"Please, _—_ "

" _He showed me what you've done!"_

"Make it stop _—_ "

" _All this time, you kept the truth from me!"_

"Help me _—_ "

" _You made me fall in love with you!"_

"Stop _—_ "

" _Lies!"_

Jack covered his ears with his hands, curling up into a ball and closing his eyes tight. He didn't even know if he was awake or dreaming; perhaps he died when he fell into the gorge, or maybe he was still falling. Whatever was happening, he wanted it to end. He couldn't take it anymore. He wanted it to stop.

"Elsa, please—"

" _I trusted you!"_

"—stop—"

" _I thought you were different."_

"—Elsa—"

 _Elsa_. Was she alive? Was she safe? He felt his heart ache with despair. Jack tried to think, but her voice echoed loudly in his head, drowning his own little voice.

" _You should have saved me."_

"I'm sorry—"

" _You let them get to me."_

"I tried, Elsa. Believe me—"

" _I'll never forgive you."_

"Listen to me, please—"

" _No one believes in you anymore."_

"Elsa, no—"

" _I'm dead because of you."_

"She can't be dead, she can't be dead, she can't be _dead_..." Jack whispered, over and over again, shutting out the other voice, desperately trying to focus on his own. Unbeknownst to him, he had begun rocking back and forth on the cold and rocky floor. "It-it's just Pitch messing with me. This is just a dream and I have to wake up," he said to himself. He pinched his arm multiple times, but to no avail. He was still trapped... wherever he was.

" _I trusted you—"_

" _Lies—"_

" _I thought you were different—"_

" _Wake up—"_

" _You should have saved me—"_

" _Everything—"_

" _No one believes in you anymore—"_

" _Wake up—"_

" _Everything—"_

" _He will never stop—"_

" _Save me—"_

" _WAKE UP!"_

Jack sat bolt upright, the bright white light blinding his eyes.

* * *

 **POV: Elsa**

* * *

Elsa looked at her people as they skated around in the courtyard to keep cool. She smiled. They did it—they brought back summer.

She easily picked out Anna in the crowd; she never really got used to the skates, and she was trying hard to keep her balance on the ice. With Kristoff on one side, and Sven on the other, Elsa laughed to herself as they practiced across the courtyard, Olaf grabbing onto Sven's tail as he glided along.

Her laughter died as quickly as it came. Her gaze drifted to the North Mountain, and thought that her Winter Spirit would have loved to see how well she did. She sucked in a sharp inhale to stop the tears before they formed, knowing that he'll never see her again.

She turned away from the crowd as the first tear fell down her cheek. What made her sadder was that only she could lament his death.

* * *

 **POV: Jack**

* * *

"Marshmallow!" he cried, giving the gigantic snowman a hug. "I thought I lost you!"

" _You fell too. Marshmallow caught you. Caught this, too,"_ he said. He produced his staff, still in one piece. Jack had never been more relieved his entire life. He eagerly grasped his staff, the familiarity of the wooden grooves in his palms helping to clear his head. Jack swung it around, laughing in delight as the frost spread all over the floor. _"You had nightmare for three days. Marshmallow carried you to sunlight, chase darkness away,"_ he added.

Jack froze mid-flight. "I was out _for three days_?" he said. Marshmallow sadly nodded. He took a limping step forward—his leg hadn't completely healed where Hans severed it—and stepped on something gold and shiny on the floor. Marshmallow picked it up. It was Elsa's crown.

Jack zoomed up the stairs, the wind whistling in his ear as he barged into the chandelier chamber. What once was a beautiful chamber was now a winter nightmare. Spikes of ice protruded everywhere, the doors to the balcony escaped their hinges and laid on their side on the balcony. The broken shards of the chandelier still remained, but there was no sign of Elsa. Fear crept up his spine; what if he really was too late? What if she's really gone?

He hated to leave Marshmallow so abruptly, but he had to know. He flew out the balcony, flying straight for Arendelle. The sun was shining brightly overhead, and even though the wind was cool on his face, there was a light sheen of sweat forming on Jack's forehead. He needed to cool down, and fast. As he approached Arendelle, the sun bore down on him, causing spots to dance in his vision and his breathing to quicken. He shook his head, desperately trying to remain airborne. Jack stopped just outside the kingdom. He was sweating so hard that he had to remove his overcoat, hanging it on a low tree branch nearby. Even if he tried to make a snow flurry, it wouldn't suffice. He had to find another way to keep cool for the day. He decided to push on later at night, praying that the temperatures would be kinder and cooler. He sat on the grass, covering himself with snow that he created, and waited for the day to pass.

* * *

"It's now or never," he said to himself. The temperature did not go down, but he had no other choice. He sucked in a deep breath, and took off, flying straight for the castle. He started to pant even though he was only halfway in, barely making it to one of the many spires of the castle. He looked around; as far as he could tell, Elsa wasn't outside. There was barely anyone in the courtyard, just a few who were skating in it; Jack noticed that the courtyard floor was covered in a thin layer of ice. The fountains surrounding it reminded him of the one that was displayed back at the ice palace, which gave their own iridescent glow. But he didn't stop to marvel; he pushed on, circling the palace with difficulty, hopping from one spire to another, until a certain mess of platinum blond hair caught his eye.

Elsa was standing outside, her hands resting on the balcony as she eyed her kingdom. He sighed in relief, bounding down the roof and landing in front of her. "There you are! I thought I'd lost you!" he exclaimed. Elsa didn't move; she looked on, staring at a point behind his head, almost as if she _couldn't_ see him.

He waved his hand in front of her face. No response. His heart dropped, his breaths coming in quick and labored. Sweat soaked his shirt and vest, his white hair sticking to his forehead. "Jack," she whispered, her eyes tearing up, her forehead creasing as she fought to swallow back the tears. His head perked up at the sound of his name, but still, she didn't see him. "Elsa," he gasped, hopping down the balcony and standing beside her, "Please, _I'm here."_

"Wherever you are," she continued, "I just want you to know that I _forgive_ you. And I'm sorry."

Jack was panicking; he dared not touch her though, for her was afraid that it would confirm the impossible. "No, Elsa, please, _look at me_ ," he begged, his voice breaking.

"Good bye, Jack."

He felt lightheaded, his breathing shallow. He held on to the rails for support, his knuckles turning white. His knees were shaking; she had to remember him. He had to make her remember him.

Something gleamed at the corner of his eye—his beacon of hope. The ice rose he had given her long ago sat in a vase near the window, the light of the moon reflecting on its pristine surface. Jack wobbled to the balcony door, leaning heavily against it. Black spots were dancing in and out of his vision. His staff slipped his grip as he reached for the rose, holding it tightly in his hand as if his life depended on it. "Elsa..." he breathed, just before his legs gave out, sending him on all fours. The ice rose skidded across the marble floor near her feet. Jack sat back, leaning his head against the balcony door, his eyelids suddenly feeling heavy, his vision fading to black.

* * *

 **POV: Elsa**

* * *

Elsa wiped the tears that fell down her cheek with the back of her hand, sniffling. She turned to head back inside when her foot caught on something small and shining. She bent down, picking up the ice rose that Jack had given her before. Odd, she thought; she was sure she left this near the window, how did get down there.

Nevertheless, she held the rose tightly to her chest, her heart sinking even more. Tears escaped her eyes as she remembered the very night Jack gave her the rose. She closed her eyes, and saw him with her mind's eye. His eyes. His smile. His laugh.

She didn't notice that Olaf had entered the room, only broken from her reverie when he said, "Mister, wake up. Elsa, why isn't he waking up?"

She sniffled, hastily wiping her tears away. "Olaf, what are you talking about?" she asked. Olaf was standing next to the door, shaking something in the air with his twig arms. "There's no one here."

Olaf was muttering to himself, tapping the side of his head in a deep-in-thought matter. Elsa ignored him and went back inside, startled and frozen on the spot when Olaf exclaimed, "I remember him! He asked me for directions before! Elsa, he was looking for you."

Elsa gasped. She rubbed her eyes, running back to Olaf, realizing that he was right—somebody else was on the balcony with them.

"Jack?"


End file.
